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MARY.  THE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 


(ioimxi.i.,  Pinx. 


J  EHKNNK, 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873, 
BY  J.  B.  FORD  AND  COMPANY, 
in  tiie  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


msr 

0 

V 

TO 

ALL  CHRISTIAN  WOMEN 

WHO  LOVE  AND  REVERENCE 

Zb  <gt6& 

THESE  SKETCHES  ARE  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED 

BY 

THE  AUTHOR, 

CONTENTS. 

Subject. 

Author. 

Page. 

Past  and  Future  ..... 

Bishop  Heber 

10 

Introduction  ...... 

17 

I. 

WOMEN  OF  THE  PATRIARCHAL  AGES  . 

29 

Invocation  ...... 

Mrs.  Hernans  . 

30 

1.  Sara  the  Princess  ..... 

31 

Cave  of  Maehpelah  .... 

Mrs.  Alexander 

38 

2.  Hagar  the  Slave  ..... 

41 

Ilagar  in  the  Wilderness 

N.  P.  Willis  . 

48 

3.  Rebekah  the  Bride  ..... 

53 

Isaac  Meditating ..... 

Rev.  R.  Wilton 

61 

4.  Leah  and  Rachel  ..... 

63 

Jacob’s  Dream  ..... 

Rev.  Geo.  Croly 

71 

Jacob’s  Pillow  ...... 

Philip  Quarles 

72 

Dirge  of  Rachel  ..... 

William  Knox  . 

73 

II. 

WOMEN  OF  THE  NATIONAL  PERIOD  . 

75 

5.  Miriam,  Sister  of  Moses 

77 

The  Finding  of  Moses  .... 

James  Graliame 

95 

The  Passage  of  the  Red  Sea 

Bishop  Heber 

96 

The  Triumph  of  Israel  .... 

A  nonymous  . 

97 

Miriam’s  Song  ..... 

Thomas  Moore  . 

98 

6.  Deborah  the  Prophetess  .... 

99 

The  Battle  of  Jezreel  .... 

Rev.  John  M  it  ford 

108 

7.  Delilah  the  Destroyer  .... 

109 

Samson  in  the  Philistine  Prison  . 

Milton 

114 

5 

4698^2 


COX  TEXTS. 


Subject. 

Author. 

Pai. 

8. 

Jephtha’s  Daughter  .... 

13 

Jephtha’s  Daughter 

N.  P.  Willis  . 

17 

Song  of  Jephtha’s  Daughter 

Byron  . 

10 

Lament  of  the  Virgins  . 

Bishop  A.  C.  Coxe 

11 

9. 

Ruth  the  Moabitess  .... 

13 

Ruth . 

Anonymous 

11 

The  Faith  of  Ruth  .... 

Mrs.  Hermans 

13 

Ruth  ...... 

Thomas  Hood  . 

14 

10. 

Hannah,  the  Praying  Mother  . 

15 

The  Presentation  of  Samuel . 

Airs.  Hemans  . 

11 

Hannah  and  Samuel 

Rev.  R.  Wilton 

54 

11. 

Abigail,  Wife  of  David 

55 

David  ...... 

Airs.  Whitman 

62 

The  Call  of  David 

.  Rev.  Dr.  Newman 

64 

12. 

The  Witch  of  Endor 

65 

Saul  and  the  Witch  of  Endor 

Byron 

71 

13. 

Jezebel,  the  Heathen  Queen  . 

73 

The  End  Foretold 

Peter  Bayne 

82 

14. 

The  Little  Maid  of  Israel 

87 

Naaman’s  Servant 

Kehle 

92 

The  Syrian  Captive  .... 

Anonymous  . 

93 

15. 

Queen  Esther  .... 

95 

Esther  ...... 

R.  W.  Raymond  . 

205 

The  Last  Resolve 

Rev.  Edmund  Jones 

208 

16. 

Judith  the  Deliverer 

211 

Judith  ..... 

James  Montgomery 

219 

Jewish  Battle-Song  .... 

George  Lunt  . 

221 

WOMEN  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  ERA  . 

223 

Palestine ...... 

J.  G.  Whittier 

.  225 

Invocation  ...... 

Airs.  Hemans  . 

228 

c,  (  I.  The  Annunciation 

Sonnets.  < 

Mrs.  Hemans 

.  229 

( II.  Song  of  the  Virgin  . 

Mrs.  Remans  . 

229 

The  Virgin  ..... 

.  W ordsworth  . 

230 

6 


CONTENTS. 


Subject. 

Author. 

Page. 

17. 

Mary  the  Myth. cal  Madonna  . 

231 

The  Virgin,  bearing  Doves  to  Sacrifice  . 

Catholic  World 

239 

The  Annunciation  .... 

Keble 

241 

Stabat  Mater.  . 

Fra  Jacopone 

243 

18. 

Mary  the  Mother  of  Jesus 

245 

A  Christmas  Carol . 

Coleridge 

264 

The  Virgin  Mary  to  the  Child  Jesus  . 

Mrs.  Browning . 

266 

A  Fragment  ...... 

Bishop  Maiit 

272 

19. 

The  Woman  of  Samaria 

273 

The  Woman  of  Samaria  .  .  .  . 

George  MacDonald 

281 

Hymn  ...... 

Anonymous 

282 

Jacob’s  Well . 

James  F.  Clarke  . 

283 

20. 

The  Widow  of  Nain  .... 

285 

The  Widow  of  Nain  . 

Catholic  World 

288 

The  Widow’s  Son  .... 

N.  P.  Willis  . 

290 

Resurrection  ...... 

Keble  . 

293 

The  Raising  of  the  Widow’s  Son 

Bishop  Ideber  . 

296 

21. 

Mary  Magdalene  .  .  .  .  , 

297 

Mary  Magdalene  .... 

II.  W.  Longfellow 

305 

Mary  Magdalene  . 

George  MacDonald 

310 

Mary  Magdalene  .... 

D.  G.  Rossetti  . 

312 

The  Penitent’s  Offering  .  .  .  . 

Mrs.  Hemans 

313 

Mary  Magdalene  .... 

Wm.  C.  Bryant 

314 

Mary  Magdalene  . 

George  Herbert 

316 

(  I.  Anointing  Christ’s  Feet 

Mrs.  Hemans  . 

317 

Sonnets.  <  II.  At  the  Sepulcher 

M rs.  Hemans 

317 

V  III.  Bearing  Tidings  of  the  Resurrection  Mrs.  Hemans  . 

318 

To  St.  Mary  Magdalene  .  .  .  . 

Catholic  World 

319 

22. 

The  Daughter  of  Herodias 

321 

Salome  ....... 

II.  W.  Longfellow  . 

324 

The  Daughter  of  Herodias  . 

Lucy  Hooper  . 

333 

23. 

Martha  and  Mary  . 

335 

At  Bethany  ..... 

II.  W.  Longfellow 

349 

The  Sisters  of  Bethany  . 

George  MacDonald 

350 

Mary’s  Choice  ..... 

Anonymous 

353 

The  Better  Part  . 

Anonymous  . 

354 

7 


COXTENTS. 


Subject 

Author. 

Pago. 

/  I.  Mary  at  the  Foot  of  Christ  . 

Mrs.  llemans  . 

355 

11.  The  Sisters  of  Bethany  after  tho 

Sonnets.  % 

Death  of  Lazarus 

Mrs.  llemans  . 

355 

v  1 1 1.  The  Memorial  of  Mary 

Mrs.  llemans 

356 

Mary . 

Tennyson . 

357 

24.  The  Widow's  Mite . 

359 

The  Widow’s  Mite  .... 

Letitia  E.  London 

363 

The  Widow’s  Offering  .... 

W.  II.  Burleigh  . 

364 

The  Value  of  a  Little 

Anonymous 

365 

The  Two  Mites  ..... 

Richard,  Crashaw  . 

366 

25.  Women  of  the  Apostolic  Church 

367 

Dorcas  ....... 

George  MacDonald 

373 

“  A  Woman  ”  —  “A  Disciple  ”  . 

Anonymous 

374 

St.  Paul  and  Lydia  .... 

T.  E.  Hankinson  . 

375 

Women  of  Scripture  .... 

M rs.  llemans  . 

380 

APPENDIX  . 

381 

Descriptive  List  of  Illustrations  . 

• 

383 

Index  to  First  Lines  of  Poetrv  . 

.  •  •  • 

399 

8 


I. 

LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Mary  the  Mother  of  Jesus  .  .  Frederick  Goodall  Frontispiece. 

II. 

Sara  the  Princess  . 

. 

Charles  Brochart 

31 

III. 

Hagar  and  Ishmael 

. 

.  Christian  Koehler  . 

41 

IY. 

IIebekah  the  Bride  . 

Charles  Landelle 

53 

Y. 

Leah  and  Eachel 

.  Jean  Francois  Portaels  . 

63 

VI. 

Miriam  and  Moses  . 

Paul  Delaroche . 

77 

VII. 

Deborah 

.  Charles  Landelle  . 

99 

VIII. 

Delilah 

Louis  Marie  Baader  . 

109 

IX. 

Jephtha’s  Daughter 

Ungues  Merle 

123 

X. 

Euth .... 

Louis  Devedeux 

133 

XI. 

Hannah  and  Samuel  . 

Charles  Brochart  . 

145 

XII. 

Abigail 

Charles  Brochart 

155 

XIII. 

The  Witch  of  Endor  . 

.  Charles  Brochart  . 

1G5 

XIV. 

Jezebel 

. 

Charles  Brochart 

173 

XV. 

The  Captive  Maid 

.  Charles  Landelle  . 

187 

XVI. 

Queen  Esther  . 

. 

Gustave  R.  C.  Boulanger 

195 

XVII. 

Judith  .... 

. 

Horace  Vernet 

211 

XVIII. 

The  Sistine  Madonna 

. 

Raphael  Sanzio 

231 

XIX. 

The  Woman  of  Samaria 

.  Emil  Vernet-Lecomte 

273 

XX. 

The  Widow  of  Nain 

Frederick  Goodall 

285 

XXI. 

Mary  Magdalene  . 

.  Pompeo  Girolamo  Batoni 

297 

XXII. 

The  Daughter  of  Herodias 

Emil  Vernet-Lecomte 

321 

XXIII. 

Martha  and  Mary 

Gustave  R.  C.  Boulanger 

335 

XXIV. 

The  Widow’s  Mite  . 

Edouard  Dubufe  . 

359 

XXV. 

Lydia  the  Hostess 

9 

.  Charles  Brochart 

3G7 

PAST  AND  FUTURE. 


EFT  of  thy  sons,  amici  thy  foes  forlorn, 

Mourn,  widowed  Queen,  forgotten  Sion,  mourn  ! 
Is  this  thy  place,  sad  city,  this  thy  throne, 
the  wild  desert  rears  its  craggy  stone; 

While  sons  unblest  their  angry  luster  iling, 

And  way-worn  pilgrims  seek  the  scanty  spring?  — 

Where  now  thy  pomp,  which  kings  with  envy  viewed  ? 
Where  now  thy  might,  which  all  those  kings  subdued? 
No  martial  myriads  muster  in  thy  gate; 

No  suppliant  nations  in  thy  Temple  wait; 

No  prophet  bards,  thy  glittering  courts  among, 

Wake  the  full  lyre,  and  swell  the  tide  of  song: 

But  lawless  force  and  meager  want  are  there, 

And  the  quick-darting  eye  of  restless  fear, 

While  cold  oblivion,  ’mid  thy  ruins  laid, 

Folds  his  dank  wing  beneath  the  ivy  shade. 

Ye  guardian  saints !  ye  warrior  sons  of  Heaven, 

To  whose  high  care  Judaea’s  state  was  given! 

0,  wont  of  old  your  mighty  watch  to  keep, 

A  host  of  gods,  on  Sion’s  towery  steep ! 

If  e’er  your  secret  footsteps  linger  still 
By  Siloa  s  fount,  or  Tabor’s  echoing  hill  ; 

If  e'er  your  song  on  Salem’s  glories  dwell, 

And  mourn  the  captive  land  you  loved  so  well 
(For  oft,  tis  said,  in  Kedron’s  palmy  vale 
Mysterious  harpings  swell  the  midnight  gale, 

And,  blest  as  balmy  dews  that  Hermon  cheer, 

Melt  in  soft  cadence  on  the  pilgrim’s  car) ; 

Forgive,  blest  spirits,  if  a  theme  so  high 
Mock  the  weak  notes  of  mortal  minstrelsy  ! 

Yet,  might  your  aid  this  anxious  breast  inspire 
With  one  faint  spark  of  Milton’s  seraph  lire, 

Then  should  my  muse  ascend  with  bolder  flight, 

And  wave  her  eagle  plumes  exulting  in  the  light. 

10 


Where 


PAST  AND  FUTURE. 


O,  happy  once  in  Heaven’s  peculiar  love, 

Delight  of  men  below,  and  saints  above ! 

Though,  Salem,  now  the  spoiler’s  ruffian  hand 
Has  loosed  his  hell-hounds  o’er  thy  wasted  land ; 
Though  weak,  and  whelmed  beneath  the  storms  of  fate, 
Thy  house  is  left  unto  thee  deso'ate ; 

Though  thy  proud  stones  in  cumbrous  ruins  fall, 

And  seas  of  sand  o’ertop  thy  mouldering  wall ; 

Yet  shall  the  Muse  to  fancy’s  ardent  view 
Each  shadowy  trace  of  faded  pomp  renew : 

And  as  the  seer  on  Pisgah’s  topmost  brow 
With  glistening  eye  beheld  the  plain  below, 

With  ardor  drank  the  scented  gale, 

And  bade  the  opening  glades  of  Canaan  hail ; 

Her  eagle  eye  shall  scan  the  prospect  wide, 

From  Carmel’s  cliffs  to  Almotana’s  tide, — 

The  flinty  waste,  the  cedar-tufted  hill, 

The  liquid  health  of  smooth  Ardeni’s  rill ; 

The  grot,  where,  by  the  watch-fire’s  evening  blaze, 

The  robber  riots  or  the  hermit  prays ; 

Or  where  the  tempest  rives  the  hoary  stone, 

The  wintry  top  of  giant  Lebanon. 

0  Thou,  their  Guide,  their  Father,  and  their  Lord, 
Loved  for  thy  mercies,  for  thy  power  adored ! 

If  at  thy  name  the  waves  forgot  their  force, 

And  refluent  Jordan  sought  his  trembling  source ; 

If  at  thy  name  like  sheep  the  mountains  fled, 

And  haughty  Sirion  bowed  his  marble  head ;  — 

To  Israel’s  woes  a  pitying  ear  incline, 

And  raise  from  earth  thy  long-neglected  vine ! 

Her  rifled  fruits  behold  the  heathen  bear, 

And  wildwood  boars  her  mangled  clusters  tear. 

Was  it  for  this  she  stretched  her  peopled  reign 
From  far  Euphrates  to  the  western  main? 

For  this  o’er  many  a  hill  her  boughs  she  threw, 

And  her  wide  arms  like  goodly  cedars  grew  ? 

For  this,  proud  Edom  slept  beneath  her  shade, 

And  o’er  th’  Arabian  deep  her  branches  played  ? 

O,  feeble  boast  of  transitory  power ! 

Vain,  fruitless  trust  of  Judah’s  happier  hour ! 

Not  such  their  hope,  when  through  the  parted  main 

11 


WO.MAX  IX  SACRED  HISTORY. 


The  elomly  wonder  led  the  warrior  train; 

Not  such  their  hope,  when  through  the  fields  of  night 
The  torch  of  heaven  diffused  its  friendly  light; 

Not,  when  fierce  conquest  urged  the  onward  war, 

And  hurled  stern  Canaan  from  his  iron  car; 

Nor,  when  live  monarchs  led  to  Cibcon’s  fight, 

In  rude  array,  the  harnessed  Amorite : 

Yes,  —  in  that  hour,  by  mortal  accents  stayed, 

The  lingering  sun  his  fiery  wheels  delayed; 

The  moon,  obedient,  trembled  at  the  sound, 

Curbed  her  pale  car,  and  checked  her  mazy  round  ! 

Let  Sinai  tell, —  for  she  beheld  His  might, 

And  God’s  own  darkness  veiled  her  mystic  height 
(lie,  cherub-born,  upon  the  whirlwind  rode, 

And  tli.-  red  mountain  like  a  furnace  glowed), — 

Let  Sinai  tell,  —  but  who  shall  dare  recite 
II is  praise,  His  power,  eternal,  infinite?  — 

Awe-struck,  I  cease ;  nor  bid  my  strains  aspire, 

Or  serve  His  altar  with  unhallowed  fire. 

Such  were  the  cares  that  watched  o’er  Israel’s  fate, 
And  such  the  glories  of  their  infant  state. 

—  Triumphant  race!  and  did  your  power  decay? 

Failed  the  bright  promise  of  your  early  day? 

No;  —  by  that  sword  which,  red  with  heathen  gore, 

A  giant  spoil,  the  stripling  champion  bore; 

By  him,  the  chief  to  farthest  India  known, 

The  mighty  master  of  the  ivory  throne ; 

In  Heaven’s  own  strength,  high  towering  o’er  her  foes, 
Victorious  Salem’s  lion  banner  rose; 

Before  her  footstool  prostrate  nations  lay, 

And  vassal  tyrants  crouched  beneath  her  sway. 

And  he,  the  kingly  sage,  whose  restless  mind 
Through  nature’s  mazes  wandered  unconfined  ; 

W1  10  every  bird  and  beast  and  insect  knew, 

And  spake  of  every  plant  that  quaffs  the  dew; 

To  him  were  known  —  so  ITagar’s  offspring  tell  — 

The  powerful  vigil  and  the  starry  spell, 

The  midnight  call,  hell’s  shadowy  legions  dread, 

And  sounds  that  burst  the  slumbers  of  the  dead. 

Hence  all  his  might;  for  who  could  these  oppose? 

And  Tadmor  thus,  and  Syrian  Balbec  rose. 

Vet  e’en  the  works  of  toiling  Genii  fall, 

12 


PAST  AND  FUTURE. 


And  vain  was  Eslakhar’s  enchanted  wall. 

In  frantic  converse  with  the  mournful  wind, 

There  oft  the  houseless  Santon  rests  reclined  ; 

Strange  shapes  he  views,  and  drinks  with  wondering  ears 
The  voices  of  the  dead  and  songs  of  other  years. 

Such,  the  faint  echo  of  departed  praise, 

Still  sound  Arabia’s  legendary  lays ; 

And  thus  their  fabling  bards  delight  to  tell 
How  lovely  were  thy  tents,  0  Israel ! 

For  thee  his  ivory  load  Behemoth  bore, 

And  far  Sofala  teemed  with  golden  ore ; 

Thine  all  the  arts  that  wait  on  wealth’s  increase, 

Or  bask  and  wanton  in  the  beam  of  peace. 

When  Tiber  slept  beneath  the  cypress  gloom, 

And  silence  held  the  lonely  woods  of  Rome ; 

Or  e’er  to  Greece  the  builder’s  skill  was  known. 

Or  the  light  chisel  brushed  the  Parian  stone ; 

Yet  here  fair  Science  nursed  her  infant  fire, 

Fanned  by  the  artist  aid  of  friendly  Tyre. 

Then  towered  the  palace,  then  in  awful  state 
The  Temple  reared  its  everlasting  gate : 

No  workman  steel,  no  ponderous  axes  rung ! 

Like  some  tall  palm  the  noiseless  fabric  sprung. 

Majestic  silence  !  —  then  the  harp  awoke, 

The  cymbal  clanged,  the  deep-voiced  trumpet  spoke ; 

And  Salem  spread  her  suppliant  arms  abroad, 

Viewed  the  descending  flame,  and  blessed  the  present  God. 

Nor  shrunk  she  then,  when,  raging  deep  and  loud, 

Beat  o’er  her  soul  the  billows  of  the  proud. 

E’en  they  who,  dragged  to  Shinar’s  fiery  sand, 

Tilled  with  reluctant  strength  the  stranger’s  land; 

Who  sadly  told  the  slow-revolving  years, 

And  steeped  the  captive’s  bitter  bread  with  tears ;  — 

Yet  oft  their  hearts  with  kindling  hopes  would  burn, 

Their  destined  triumphs,  and  their  glad  return, 

And  their  sad  lyres,  which,  silent  and  unstrung, 

In  mournful  ranks  on  Babel’s  willows  hung, 

Would  oft  awake  to  chant  their  future  fame, 

And  from  the  skies  their  lingering  Saviour  claim. 

His  promised  aid  could  every  fear  control ; 

This  nerved  the  warrior’s  arm,  this  steeled  the  martyr’s  soul  1 
Nor  vain  their  hope;  —  bright  beaming  through  the  sky, 

n 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  II  IS  TOBY. 


Burst  in  full  blaze  the  Dayspring  from  on  high ; 
Earth’s  utmost  isles  exulted  at  the  sight, 

And  crowding  nations  drank  the  orient  light ; 

Lo,  star-led  chiefs  Assyrian  odors  bring, 

And  bending  Magi  seek  their  infant  King ! 

Marked  ye  where,  hovering  o’er  his  radiant  head, 

The  dove’s  white  wings  celestial  glory  shed? 

Daughter  of  Sion  !  virgin  queen  !  rejoice  ! 

Clap  the  glad  hand,  and  lift  the  exulting  voice ! 

He  conies,  —  but  not  in  regal  splendor  drest, 

The  haughty  diadem,  the  Tyrian  vest ; 

Not  armed  in  flame,  all-glorious  from  afar, 

Of  hosts  the  chieftain,  and  the  lord  of  war : 

Messiah  comes  !  —  let  furious  discord  cease ; 

Be  peace  on  earth  before  the  Prince  of  Peace ! 

Disease  and  anguish  feel  his  blest  control, 

And  howling  fiends  release  the  tortured  soul ; 

The  beams  of  gladness  hell’s  dark  caves  illume, 

And  Mercy  broods  above  the  distant  gloom. 

Thou  palsied  earth,  with  noonday  night  o’erspread ! 
Thou  sickening  sun,  so  dark,  so  deep,  so  red  ! 

Ye  hovering  ghosts,  that  throng  the  starless  air, 

Why  shakes  the  earth  ?  why  fades  the  light  ?  declare ! 
Are  those  his  limbs,  with  ruthless  scourges  torn  ? 

His  brows,  all  bleeding  with  the  twisted  thorn? 

His  the  pale  form,  the  meek  forgiving  eye 
Raised  from  the  cross  in  patient  agony? 

—  Be  dark,  thou  sun,  —  thou  noonday  night,  arise, 
And  hide,  0  hide,  the  dreadful  sacrifice ! 

Ye  faithful  few,  by  bold  affection  led, 

Who  round  the  Saviour’s  cross  your  sorrows  shed, 

Not  for  His  sake  your  tearful  vigils  keep ;  — 

Weep  for  your  country,  for  your  children  weep  ! 

—  Vengeance!  thy  fiery  wing  their  race  pursued; 

Thy  thirsty  poniard  blushed  with  infant  blood. 

Roused  at  thy  call,  and  panting  still  for  game, 

The  bird  of  war,  the  Latian  eagle,  came. 

Then  Judah  raged,  by  ruffian  Discord  led, 

Drunk  with  the  steamy  carnage  of  the  dead : 

He  saw  his  sons  by  dubious  slaughter  fall, 

And  war  without,  and  death  within  the  wall. 
Wide-wasting  plague,  gaunt  famine,  mad  despair, 

n 


PAST  AND  FUTURE. 

And  dire  debate,  and  clamorous  strife  were  there ; 
Love,  strong  as  death,  retained  his  might  no  more, 
And  the  pale  parent  drank  her  children’s  gore. 

Yet  they,  who  wont  to  roam  the  ensanguined  plain, 
And  spurn  with  fell  delight  their  kindred  slain; 

E’en  they,  when,  high  above  the  dusty  fight, 

Their  burning  Temple  rose  in  lurid  light, 

To  their  loved  altars  paid  a  parting  groan, 

And  in  their  country’s  woes  forgot  their  own. 

Still  o’er  her  sky  the  clouds  of  anger  roll, 

And  God’s  revenge  hangs  heavy  on  her  sovd. 

Yet  shall  she  rise ;  —  but  not  by  war  restored, 

Not  built  iu  murder,  —  planted  by  the  sword: 

Yes !  Salem,  thou  slialt  rise :  thy  Father’s  aid 
Shall  heal  the  wound  Ilis  chastening  hand  has  made; 
Shall  judge  the  proud  oppressor’s  ruthless  sway, 

And  burst  his  brazen  bonds,  and  cast  his  cords  away. 
Then  on  your  tops  shall  deathless  verdure  spring. 
Break  forth,  ye  mountains,  and  ye  valleys,  sing ! 

No  more  your  thirsty  rocks  shall  frown  forlorn, 

The  unbeliever’s  jest,  the  heathen’s  scorn ; 

The  sultry  sands  shall  tenfold  harvests  yield, 

And  a  new  Eden  deck  the  thorny  field. 

E’en  now,  perchance,  wide  waving  o’er  the  land, 

That  mighty  Angel  lifts  his  golden  wand, 

Courts  the  bright  vision  of  descending  power, 

Tells  every  gate,  and  measures  every  tower ; 

And  chides  the  tardy  seals  that  yet  detain 
Thy  Sion,  Judah,  from  his  destined  reign. 

From  “  Palestine,”  by  Bishop  ffcber. 
15 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


INTRODUCTION. 

jfj  HE  object  of  the  following  pages  will  be  to  show,  in  a 
series  of  biographical  sketches,  a  history  of  Woman¬ 
hood  under  Divine  culture,  tending  toward  the  de¬ 
velopment  of  that  high  ideal  of  woman  which  we  find 
in  modern  Christian  countries. 

All  the  characters  comprised  in  these  sketches  belong  to  one 
nationality.  They  are  of  that  mysterious  and  ancient  race  whose 
records  begin  with  the  dawn  of  history;  avIio,  for  centuries,  have 
been  sifted  like  seed  through  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  with¬ 
out  losing  either  their  national  spirit  or  their  wonderful  physical 
and  mental  vigor. 

By  this  nation  the  Scriptures,  which  we  reverence,  were  writ¬ 
ten  and  preserved.  From  it  came  all  the  precepts  and  teachings 
by  which  our  lives  are  guided  in  things  highest  and  holiest ;  from 
it  came  He  -who  is  at  once  the  highest  Ideal  of  human  perfec¬ 
tion  and  the  clearest  revelation  of  the  Divine. 

We  are  taught  that  the  Creator  revealed  himself  to  man,  not 
at  once,  but  by  a  system  progressively  developing  from  age  to 
age.  Selecting  one  man,  he  made  of  his  posterity  a  sacerdotal 
nation,  through  which  should  gradually  unfold  a  religious  litera¬ 
ture,  and  from  which  should  come  a  succession  of  religious  teach¬ 
ers,  and  the  final  development,  through  Jesus,  of  a  religion  whose 
ultimate  triumphs  should  bring  complete  blessedness  to  the  race. 

In  tracing  the  Bible  narrative  from  the  beginning,  it  is  in¬ 
teresting  to  mark  the  effect  of  this  great  movement  in  its  re¬ 
lation  to  women.  The  characters  we  have  selected  will  be 

17 


WOMAN  IN  S ACHED  HIS  TOUT. 

arranged  for  this  purpose  in  a  series,  under  the  following 
divisions :  — 

I.  Women  of  the  Patriarchal  Ages. 

II.  Women  of  the  National  Period. 

III.  Women  of  the  Christian  Period. 

We  understand  by  the  patriarchal  period  the  interval  between 
the  calling  of  Abraham  and  the  public  mission  of  Moses.  The 
pictures  of  life  at  this  time  are  interesting,  because  they  give 
the  clearest  idea  of  what  we  may  call  the  raw  material  on 
which  the  educational  system  of  the  Divine  Being  began  to 
work.  We  find  here  a  state  of  society  the  elements  of  which  are 
in  some  respects  peculiarly  simple  and  healthful,  and  in  others 
exhibiting  the  imperfections  of  the  earth’s  childhood.  Family 
affection  appears  to  be  the  strongest  force  in  it,  yet  it  is 
family  affection  with  the  defects  of  an  untaught,  untrained 
morality.  Polygamy,  with  its  well-known  evils,  was  universal 
in  the  world.  Society  was  broken  into  roving  tribes,  and  life 
was  a  constant  battle,  in  which  artifice  and  deception  were 
the  only  refuge  of  the  quiet  and  peace-loving  spirit.  Even 
within  the  bounds  of  the  family,  we  continually  find  fraud,  artifice, 
and  deception.  Men  and  women,  in  that  age  of  the  world,  seem 
to  have  practiced  deceit  and  spoken  lies,  as  children  do,  from 
immaturity  and  want  of  deep  reflection.  A  certain  childhood  of 
nature,  however,  is  the  redeeming  charm  in  all  these  pictures. 
There  is  an  honest  simplicity  in  the  narrative,  which  refreshes  us 
like  the  talk  of  children. 

We  have  been  so  long  in  the  habit  of  hearing  the  Bible  read 
in  solemn,  measured  tones,  in  the  hush  of  churches,  that  we  are 
apt  to  forget  that  these  men  and  women  were  really  flesh  and 
blood,  of  the  same  human  nature  with  ourselves.  A  factitious 
solemnity  invests  a  Bible  name,  and  some  good  people  seem  to 
feel  embarassed  by  the  obligation  to  justify  all  the  proceedings 
of  patriarchs  and  prophets  by  the  advanced  rules  of  Christian 
morality.  In  this  respect,  the  modern  fashion  of  treating  the 
personages  of  sacred  story  with  the  same  freedom  of  inquiry  as 
the  characters  of  any  other  history  has  its  advantages.  It  takes 

18 


INTli  01)  XJCTION. 

them  out  of  a  false,  unnatural  light,  where  they  lose  all  hold  on 
our  sympathies,  and  brings  them  before  us  as  real  human  beings. 
Read  in  this  way,  the  ancient  sacred  history  is  the  purest  natu¬ 
ralism,  under  the  benevolent  guidance  of  the  watchful  Father  of 
Nations. 

Pascal  very  wisely  says,  “The  whole  succession  of  men  dur¬ 
ing  the  long  course  of  ages  ought  to  be  considered  as  a  single 
man,  who  exists  and  learns  from  age  to  age.”  Considered  in  this 
light,  it  is  no  more  difficult  to  conceive  of  an  infinite  Father  toler¬ 
ating  an  imperfect  childhood  of  morals  in  the  whole  human  race, 
than  in  each  individual  of  that  race.  The  patriarchs  are  to  bo 
viewed  as  the  first  pupils  in  the  great  training-school  whence  the 
world’s  teachers  in  morals  were  to  come,  and  they  are  shown 
to  us  in  all  the  crudity  of  early  pupilage.  The  great  virtue  of 
which  they  are  presented  as  the  pattern  is  the  virtue  of  the  child 
and  the  scholar  —  faith. 

Faith,  the  only  true  reason  for  weak  and  undeveloped  natures, 
was  theirs,  and  as  the  apostle  says,  “it  was  counted  to  them  for 
righteousness.”  However  imperfect  and  uncultured  one  may  be, 
if  he  has  implicit  trust  in  an  infallible  teacher,  he  is  in  the  way 
of  all  attainment. 

The  faith  of  which  Abraham  is  presented  as  the  example  is  not 
the  blind,  ignorant  superstition  of  the  savage.  Not  a  fetish,  not 
a  selfish  trust  in  a  Patron  Deity  for  securing  personal  advan¬ 
tages,  but  an  enlightened,  boundless  trust  in  the  Supreme  power, 
wisdom,  and  rectitude.  “  The  Judge  of  all  the  earth  will  do  r'ujht." 
In  this  belief,  Abraham  trusts  him  absolutely.  To  him  he  is  will¬ 
ing  to  surrender  the  deepest  and  dearest  hopes  of  his  life,  and 
sacrifice  even  the  son  in  whom  center  all  the  nerves  of  joy  and 
hope,  “accounting,”  as  the  Apostle  tells  us,  “that  God  was  able 
to  raise  him  from  the  dead.” 

Nor  was  this  faith  bounded  by  the  horizon  of  this  life.  We 
are  informed  by  the  Apostle  Paul,  who  certainly  well  under¬ 
stood  the  traditions  of  his  nation,  that  Abraham  looked  forward 
to  the  same  heavenly  home  which  cheers  the  heart  ot  tin* 
Christian.  “By  faith  Abraham,  when  he  was  called  to  go  out 
into  a  place  which  he  should  after  receive  for  an  inheritance, 

19 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

obeyed ;  and  lie  went  out,  not  knowing  whither  lie  went.  By 
faith  he  sojourned  in  the  land  of  promise,  as  in  a  strange  country, 
dwelling  in  tabernacles  with  Isaac  and  Jacob,  the  heirs  with  him 
of  the  same  promise  :  for  he  looked  for  a  city  that  hath  foundations , 
whose  builder  and  maker  is  God.  They  —  the  patriarchs  —  de¬ 
sired  a  better  country,  even  an  heavenly :  wherefore  God  is  not 
ashamed  to  be  called  their  God.”  (Heb.  xi.  8-10,  16.) 

We  are  further  told  that  this  faith  passed  as  a  legacy  through 
the  patriarchal  families  to  the  time  of  Moses,  and  that  the  inspir¬ 
ing  motive  of  his  life  was  the  invisible  God  and  the  future  world 
beyond  the  grave.  “By  faith  Moses,  when  he  was  come  to 
years,  refused  to  be  called  the  son  of  Pharaoh’s  daughter,  choos¬ 
ing  rather  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God,  than  to 
enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season ;  esteeming  the  reproach 
of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the  treasures  of  Egypt,  for  he 
had  respect  unto  the  recompense  of  reward.  By  faith  he  forsook 
Egypt,  not  fearing  the  wrath  of  the  great  king ;  for  he  endured 
as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible.”  (Heb.  xi.  24-27.)  It  has 
been  blindly  asserted  that  the  hope  of  a  future  life  was  no 
part  of  the  working  force  in  the  lives  of  these  ancient  patri¬ 
archs.  Certainly,  no  one  ever  sacrificed  more  brilliant  prospects 
of  things  seen  and  temporal,  for  the  sake  of  things  unseen  and 
eternal,  than  Moses. 

Finally,  one  remarkable  characteristic  of  all  these  old  patri¬ 
archs  was  the  warmth  of  their  affections.  Differing  in  degree  as 
to  moral  worth,  they  were  all  affectionate  men.  So,  after  all  that 
Christianity  has  done  for  us,  after  all  the  world’s  growth  and  pro¬ 
gress,  we  find  no  pictures  of  love  in  family  life  more  delicate  and 
tender  than  are  given  in  these  patriarchal  stories.  No  husband 
could  be  more  loyally  devoted  to  a  wife  than  Abraham  ;  no  lover 
exhibit  less  of  the  eagerness  of  selfish  jDassion  and  more  of  en¬ 
during  devotion  than  Jacob,  who  counted  seven  years  of  servi¬ 
tude  as  nothing,  for  the  love  he  bare  his  Rachael ;  and,  for  a 
picture  of  parental  tenderness,  the  story  of  Joseph  stands  alone 
and  unequalled  in  human  literature. 

•  In  the  patriarchal  families,  as  here  given,  women  seem  to 

have  reigned  as  queens  of  the  interior.  Even  when  polygamy 

20 


INTR  OB  UCTION. 


was  practiced,  the  monogamic  affection  was  still  predominant. 
In  the  case  of  Abraham  and  Jacob,  it  appears  to  have  been  from 
no  wandering  of  the  affections,  but  from  a  desire  of  offspring, 
or  the  tyranny  of  custom,  that  a  second  wife  was  imposed. 

Female  chastity  was  jealously  guarded.  When  a  young  prince 
seduced  Dinah,  the  daughter  of  Jacob,  although  offering  honor¬ 
able  marriage,  with  any  amount  of  dowry,  the  vengeance  of 
the  brothers  could  only  be  appeased  by  blood;  and  the  his¬ 
tory  of  Joseph  shows  that  purity  was  regarded  as  a  virtue  in 
man  as  well  as  in  woman.  Such,  then,  was  the  patriarchal 
stock,  —  the  seed-form  of  the  great  and  chosen  nation.  Let 
us  now  glance  at  the  influences  which  nourished  it  through 
the  grand  growth  of  the  prophetic  or  national  period,  up  to 
the  time  of  its  consummate  blossom  and  fruit  in  the  Christian 
era. 

Moses  was  the  great  lawgiver  to  mold  this  people  into  a  na¬ 
tion.  His  institutes  formed  a  race  of  men  whose  vital  force  has 
outlived  conquest,  persecution,  dispersion,  and  every  possible 
cause  which  could  operate  to  destroy  a  nationality ;  so  that, 
even  to  our  time,  talent  and  genius  spring  forth  from  the  un¬ 
wasted  vigor  of  these  sons  and  daughters  of  Abraham.  The 
remarkable  vigor  and  vitality  of  the  Jewish  race,  their  power 
of  adaptation  to  every  climate,  and  of  bearing  up  under  the 
most  oppressive  and  disadvantageous  circumstances,  have  at¬ 
tracted  the  attention  of  the  French  government,  and  two  suc¬ 
cessive  commissions  of  inquiry,  with  intervals  of  three  or  four 
years  between,  have  been  instituted,  “  on  the  causes  of  the 
health  and  longevity  of  the  Jewish  race.” 

In  the  “Israelite”  of  February  9,  18GG,  we  have,  on  this  sub¬ 
ject,  the  report  of  M.  Legoyt,  chief  of  a  division  of  the  ministry 
of  commerce  and  public  works,  one  of  the  first  statisticians  of 
France.  He  says:  “We  have  seen  that  all  the  documents  put 
together  are  affirmative  of  an  exceptional  vitality  of  the  Jews. 
How  can  this  phenomenon  be  explained  ?  Dietrici,  after  having 
demonstrated  its  existence  in  Prussia,  thinks  it  is  to  be  attributed 
to  greater  temperance,  a  better  regulated  life,  and  purer  morals. 

This  is  likewise  the  opinion  of  Drs.  Neufville,  Glatter,  and  Meyer. 

21 


WOMAN  IX  SACRED  HISTORY. 

Cases  of  drunkenness,  says  Dietrici,  frequent  among  the  Chris¬ 
tians,  occur  very  rarely  among  the  Jews.  This  regularity  and 
discipline,  and  greater  self-control,  of  Jewish  life  is  confirmed  by 
the  criminal  statistics  of  Prussia,  which  show  fewer  Jews  con¬ 
demned  for  crime.” 

M.  Legoyt  goes  on  to  account  for  this  longevity  and  excep¬ 
tional  vitality  of  the  Jews  by  the  facts  of  their  family  life :  that 
early  marriages  are  more  common ;  that  great  care  is  taken  to 
provide  for  the  exigencies  of  marriage ;  that  there  are  fewer 
children  born,  and  thus  they  are  better  cared  for;  that  family 
feeling  is  more  strongly  developed  than  in  other  races ;  that  the 
Jewish  mother  is  the  nurse  of  her  own  infant,  and  that  great 
care  and  tenderness  are  bestowed  on  young  children. 

It  is  evident  that  the  sanitary  prescriptions  of  the  Mosaic  law 
have  an  important  bearing  on  the  health.  If  we  examine  these 
laws  of  Moses,  we  shall  find  that  they  consist  largely  in  dietetic 
and  sanitary  regulations,  in  directions  for  detecting  those  diseases 
which  vitiate  the  blood,  and  removing  the  subjects  of  them  from 
contact  with  their  fellows. 

But  the  greatest  peculiarity  of  the  institutes  of  Moses  is  their 
care  of  family  life.  They  differed  from  the  laws  of  all  other 
ancient  nations  by  making  the  family  the  central  point  of  the 
state.  In  Rome  and  Greece,  and  in  antiquity  generally,  the 
ruling  purpose  was  war  and  conquest.  War  was  the  normal 
condition  of  the  ancient  world.  The  state  was  for  the  most 
part  a  camp  under  martial  law,  and  the  interests  of  the  family 
fared  hardly.  The  laws  of  Moses,  on  the  contrary,  contemplated 
a  peaceful  community  of  land-holders,  devoted  to  agriculture 
and  domestic  life.  The  land  of  Canaan  was  divided  into  home¬ 
steads  ;  the  homestead  was  inalienable  in  families,  and  could  be 
sold  only  for  fifty  years,  when  it  reverted  again  to  the  original 
heirs.  All  these  regulations  gave  a  quality  of  stability  and  per¬ 
petuity  to  the  family.  We  have  also  some  striking  laws  which 
show  how,  when  brought  into  immediate  comparison,  family  life 
is  always  considered  the  first ;  for  instance,  see  Deuteronomy  xxiv. 
5:  “When  a  man  hath  taken  a  new  wife  he  shall  not  go  out  to 

war,  neither  shall  he  be  charged  with  any  business ;  but  he  shall 

22 


INTRODUCTION. 

be  free  at  home  one  year,  and  shall  cheer  up  his  wife  which 
he  hath  taken.”  What  can  more  strongly  show  the  delicate  care 
of  woman,  and  the  high  regard  paid  to  the  family,  than  this  ?  It 
was  more  important  to  be  a  good  husband  and  make  his  wife 
happy  than  to  win  military  glory  or  perform  public  service  of 
any  kind. 

The  same  regard  for  family  life  is  shown,  in  placing  the  father 
and  the  mother  as  joint  objects  of  honor  and  veneration,  in  the 
Ten  Commandments :  “  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother,  that  thy 
days  may  be  long  in  the  land  that  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee.” 
Among  the  Greeks,  the  wife  was  a  nonentity,  living  in  the  seclu¬ 
sion  of  the  women’s  apartments,  and  never  associated  publicly 
with  her  husband  as  an  equal.  In  Rome,  the  father  was  all  in  all 
in  the  family,  and  held  the  sole  power  of  life  and  death  over  his 
wife  and  children.  Among  the  Jews,  the  wife  was  the  co-equal 
queen  of  the  home,  and  was  equally  honored  and  obeyed  with 
her  husband.  Lest  there  should  be  any  doubt  as  to  the  position 
of  the  mother,  the  command  is  solemnly  reiterated,  and  the  mother 
placed  first  in  order:  “And  the  Lord  spake  to  Moses,  speak  unto 
the  children  of  Israel  and  say  unto  them,  Ye  shall  be  holy,  for  I 
the  Lord  your  God  am  holy.  Ye  shall  fear  every  man  his 
mother  and  his  father.  I  am  the  Lord.”  (Lev.  xix.  3.)  How 
solemn  is  the  halo  of  exaltation  around  the  mother  in  this  pass¬ 
age,  opened  with  all  the  authority  of  God, — calling  to  highest 
holiness,  and  then  exalting  the  mother  and  the  father  as,  next 
to  God,  objects  of  reverence ! 

Family  government  was  backed  by  all  the  authority  of  the 
state,  but  the  power  of  life  and  death  was  not  left  in  the  parents 
hands.  If  a  son  proved  stubborn  and  rebellious,  utterly  refusing 
domestic  discipline,  then  the  father  and  the  mother  were  to  unite 
in  bringing  him  before  the  civil  magistrates,  who  condemned  him 
to  death.  But  the  mother  must  appear  and  testify,  before  the 
legal  act  was  accomplished,  and  thus  the  power  of  restraining 
the  stronger  passions  of  the  man  was  left  with  her. 

The  laws  of  Moses  also  teach  a  degree  of  delicacy  and  con¬ 
sideration,  in  the  treatment  of  women  taken  captives  in  war,  that 
was  unparalleled  in  those  ages.  With  one  consent,  in  all  other 

23 


WOMAN"  IX  SACKED  HISTORY. 

ancient  nations,  the  captive  woman  was  a  slave,  with  no  pro¬ 
tection  tor  chastity.  Compare  with  this  the  spirit  of  the  law  of 
Moses :  “  If  thou  seest  among-  thy  captives  a  beautiful  woman, 
and  hast  a  desire  unto  her  that  thou  wouldst  have  her  to  wife, 
then  thou  shalt  bring  her  to  thy  house,  and  she  shall  remain  in 
thy  house  and  bewail  her  father  and  mother  a  full  month ;  and 
after  that  thou  shalt  go  in  unto  her  and  be  her  husband,  and  she 
shall  be  thy  wife.”  Here  is  consideration,  regard  to  womanly 
feeling,  and  an  opportunity  for  seeking  the  affection  of  the  captive 
by  kindness.  The  law  adds,  furthermore,  that  if  the  man  change 
his  mind,  and  do  not  wish  to  marry  her  after  this  time  for  closer 
acquaintance,  then  he  shall  give  her  her  liberty,  and  allow  her 
to  go  where  she  pleases:  “Thou  shalt  not  sell  her  at  all  for 
money,  thou  shalt  not  make  merchandise  of  her,  because  thou 
hast  humbled  her.” 

The  laws  of  Moses  did  not  forbid  polygamy,  but  they  secured 
to  the  secondary  wives  such  respect  and  attention  as  made  the 
maintenance  of  many  of  them  a  matter  of  serious  difficulty. 
Everywhere  we  find  Moses  interposing  some  guard  to  the  help¬ 
lessness  of  the  woman,  softening  and  moderating  the  harsh  cus¬ 
toms  of  ancient  society  in  her  favor.  Men  were  not  allowed 
to  hold  women-servants  merely  for  the  gratification  of  a  tem¬ 
porary  passion,  without  assuming  the  obligations  of  a  husband. 
Thus  we  find  the  following  restraint  on  the  custom  of  buying  a 
handmaid  or  concubine  :  “  If  a  man  sell  his  daughter  to  be  a 
maid-servant,  she  shall  not  go  out  to  work  as  the  men-servants 
do,  and,  if  she  please  not  her  master  which  hath  betrothed  her 
to  himself,  then  shall  he  let  her  be  redeemed  ;  he  shall  have  no 
power  to  sell  her  unto  a  stranger,  seeing  he  hath  dealt  deceitfully 
with  her.  And  if  he  have  betrothed  her  to  his  son,  he  shall  deal 
with  her  as  a  daughter.  And  if  he  take  another  wife,  her  food 
and  her  raiment,  and  her  duty  of  marriage  shall  he  not  diminish. 
And  if  he  do  not  these  three  things  unto  her,  then  shall  she  go 
out  free  without  money.”  (Ex.  xxi.  7.)  This  law,  in  fact,  gave 
to  every  concubine  the  rights  and  immunities  of  a  legal  wife,  and 
in  default  of  its  provisions  she  recovered  her  liberty.  Thus, 
also,  we  find  a  man  is  forbidden  to  take  two  sisters  to  wife,  and 

24 


INTRODUCTION. 

the  feelings  of  the  first  wife  are  expressly  mentioned  as  the  rea¬ 
son:  “Thou  shalt  not  take  unto  thy  wife  her  sister  to  vex  her 
during  her  lifetime.” 

In  the  same  manner  it  was  forbidden  to  allow  personal  favor¬ 
itism  to  influence  the  legal  rights  of  succession  belonging  to 
children  of  different  wives.  (Deut.  xxi.  15.)  “  If  a  man  have 

two  wives,  one  beloved  and  the  other  hated,  and  they  have  both 
borne  him  children,  and  if  the  firstborn  son  be  hers  that  is 
hated,  then,  when  he  maketh  his  sons  to  inherit,  he  may  not 
make  the  son  of  the  beloved  firstborn,  but  he  shall  acknowl¬ 
edge  the  son  of  the  hated  for  the  firstborn.” 

If  a  man  slandered  the  chastity  of  his  wife  before  marriage, 
she  or  her  relations  had  a  right  to  bring  him  before  a  tribunal  of 
the  elders,  and,  failing  to  substantiate  his  accusations,  he  was 
heavily  fined  and  the  right  of  divorce  taken  from  him. 

By  thus  hedging  in  polygamy  with  the  restraints  of  serious 
obligations  and  duties,  and  making  every  concubine  a  wife,  enti¬ 
tled  to  claim  all  the  privileges  of  a  wife,  Moses  prepared  the  way 
for  its  gradual  extinction.  For  since  it  could  not  be  a  mere 
temporary  connection  involving  no  duty  on  the  man’s  part,  since 
he  could  not  sell  or  make  merchandise  of  the  slave  when  he  was 
tired  of  her,  since  the  children  had  a  legal  claim  to  support,  —  it 
became  a  serious  matter  to  increase  the  number  of  wives.  The 
kings  of  Israel  were  expressly  forbidden  to  multiply  wives;  and 
the  disobedience  of  Solomon,  who  followed  the  custom  of  Orien¬ 
tal  sovereigns,  is  mentioned  with  special  reprobation,  as  calling 
down  the  judgments  of  God  upon  his  house. 

The  result  of  all  this  was,  that  in  the  course  of  time  polygamy 
fell  into  disuse  among  the  Jews ;  and,  after  the  Babylonian  cap¬ 
tivity,  when  a  more  strenuous  observance  of  the  laws  of  Moses 
was  enforced,  it  almost  entirely  ceased.*  In  the  time  of  Christ 
and  the  Apostles,  the  Jews  had  become  substantially  a  mono- 
gamic  nation. 

Another  peculiarity  in  the  laws  of  Moses  is  the  equality  of 
the  treatment  of  man  and  woman.  Among  other  nations,  adultery 
was  punished  severely  in  the  wife,  and  lightly,  if  at  all,  in  the 

*  Michaelis,  Laws  of  Mosses,  III.  5,  §  95. 

25 


WOMAN ’  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

husband.  According  to  the  Jewish  law,  it  was  punished  by  the 
death  of  both  parties.  If  a  man  seduced  a  girl,  he  was  obliged 
to  marry  her ;  and  forcible  violation  was  punished  by  death. 

While  in  many  other  nations,  prostitution,  in  one  form  or 
other,  formed  part  of  the  services  of  the  temple  and  the  revenues 
of  the  state,  it  was  enacted  that  the  wages  of  such  iniquity 
should  not  be  received  into  the  treasury  of  the  Lord ;  and, 
finally,  it  was  enjoined  that  there  should  be  no  prostitute  among 
the  daughters  of  Israel.  (Deut.  xxiii.  17,  18.) 

In  all  that  relates  to  the  details  of  family  life,  the  laws  of 
Moses  required  great  temperance  and  government  of  the  pas¬ 
sions  ;  and,  undoubtedly,  these  various  restraints  and  religions 
barriers  raised  by  the  ceremonial  law  around  the  wife  and 
mother  are  one  great  reason  of  the  vigor  of  the  Jewish  women 
and  the  uncorrupted  vitality  of  the  race. 

The  law  of  Moses  on  divorce,  though  expressly  spoken  of  by 
Christ  as  only  a  concession  or  adaptation  to  a  low  state  of 
society,  still  was,  in  its  day,  on  the  side  of  protection  to  women. 
A  man  could  not  put  his  wife  out  of  doors  at  any  caprice  of 
changing  passion :  a  legal  formality  was  required,  which  would, 
in  those  times,  require  the  intervention  of  a  Levite  to  secure 
the  correctness  of  the  instrument.  This  would  bring  the  matter 
under  the  cognizance  of  legal  authority,  and  tend  to  check  the 
rash  exercise  of  the  right  by  the  husband.  The  final  result  of 
all  this  legislation,  enforced  from  age  to  age  by  Divine  judg¬ 
ments,  and  by  the  warning  voices  of  successive  prophets,  was, 
that  the  Jewish  race,  instead  of  sinking  into  licentiousness, 
and  losing  stamina  and  vigor,  as  all  the  other  ancient  nations 
did,  became  essentially  a  chaste  and  vigorous  people,  and  is  so 
to  this  day. 

The  comparison  of  the  literature  of  any  ancient  nation  with 
that  of  the  Jews  strikingly  demonstrates  this.  The  uncleanness 
and  obscenity  of  much  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  literature  is  in 
wonderful  contrast  to  the  Jewish  writings  in  the  Bible  and 
Apocrypha,  where  vice  is  never  made  either  ludicrous  or  attrac¬ 
tive,  but  mentioned  only  with  horror  and  reprobation. 

If  we  consider  now  the  variety,  the  elevation,  and  the  number 

26 


IN  TR  OD  UCTION. 


of  female  characters  in  sacred  history,  and  look  to  the  corre¬ 
sponding  records  of  other  nations,  we  shall  see  the  results  of  this 
culture  of  women.  The  nobler,  the  heroic  elements  were  devel¬ 
oped  among  the  Jewish  women  by  the  sacredness  and  respect 
which  attached  to  family  life.  The  veneration  which  surrounded 
motherhood,  and  the  mystic  tradition  coming  down  through  the 
ages  that  some  Judaean  mother  should  give  birth  to  the  great 
Saviour  and  Regenerator  of  mankind,  consecrated  family  life 
with  a  devout  poetry  of  emotion.  Every  cradle  was  hallowed 
by  the  thought  of  that t blessed  child  who  should  be  the  hope  of 
the  world. 

Another  cause  of  elevation  of  character  among  Jewish  women 
was  their  equal  liability  to  receive  the  prophetic  impulse.  A 
prophet  was,  by  virtue  of  his  inspiration,  a  public  teacher,  and 
the  leader  of  the  nation,  —  kings  and  magistrates  listened  to  his 
voice ;  and  this  crowning  glory  was  from  time  to  time  bestowed 
on  women. 

We  are  informed  in  2  Kings  xxii.  14,  that  in  the  reign  of 
King  Josiah,  when  a  crisis  of  great  importance  arose  with  re¬ 
spect  to  the  destiny  of  the  nation,  the  king  sent  a  deputation 
of  the  chief  priests  and  scribes  to  inquire  of  the  word  of  the  Lord 
from  Huldah  the  prophetess,  and  that  they  received  her  word 
as  the  highest  authority.  This  was  while  the  prophet  Jeremiah 
was  yet  a  young  man. 

The  prophetess  was  always  a  poetess,  and  some  of  the  earliest 
records  of  female  poetry  in  the  world  are  of  this  kind.  A  lofty 
enthusiasm  of  patriotism  also  distinguishes  the  Jewish  women, 
and  in  more  than  one  case  in  the  following  sketches  we  shall  see 
them  the  deliverers  of  their  country.  Corresponding  to  these 
noble  women  of  sacred  history,  what  examples  have  we  in  pol¬ 
ished  Greece  ?  The  only  women  who  were  allowed  mental  cul¬ 
ture —  who  studied,  wrote,  and  enjoyed  the  society  of  philoso¬ 
phers  and  of  learned  men  —  were  the  courtesans.  For  chaste 
wives  and  mothers  there  was  no  career  and  no  record. 

In  the  Roman  state  we  see  the  influence  upon  woman  of  a 
graver  style  of  manhood  and  a  more  equal  liberty  in  the  cus¬ 
toms  of  society.  In  Rome  there  were  sacred  women,  devoted 


TF0il/14JVr  IX  SACKED  IIISTOEY. 

to  religion,  and  venerated  accordingly.  They  differed,  however, 
from  the  inspired  women  of  Jewish  history  in  being  entirely 
removed  from  the  experiences  of  family  life.  The  vestal  virgins 
were  bound  by  cruel  penalties  to  a  life  of  celibacy.  So  far  as 
we  know,  there  is  not  a  Jewish  prophetess  who  is  not  also  a 
wife,  and  the  motherly  character  is  put  forward  as  constituting 
a  claim  to  litness  in  public  life.  “  I,  Deborah,  arose  a  mother 
in  Israel."  That  pure  ideal  of  a  sacred  woman  springing  from 
the  bosom  of  the  family,  at  once  wife,  mother,  poetess,  leader, 

inspirer,  prophetess,  is  peculiar  to  sacred  history. 

28 


INVOCATION. 


the  tired  voyager  on  stormy  seas 
Invokes  the  coming  of  bright  birds  from  shore, 

To  waft  him  tidings  with  the  gentler  breeze, 

Of  dim  sweet  woods  that  hear  no  billow’s  roar ; 

So  from  the  depth  of  days,  when  earth  yet  wore 
Her  solemn  beauty  and  primeval  dew, 

I  call  you,  gracious  Forms  !  0,  come,  restore 

Awhile  that  holy  freshness,  and  renew 
Life’s  morning  dreams !  .  Come  with  the  voice,  the  lyre, 
Daughters  of  Judah  !  with  the  timbrel  rise  ! 

Ye  of  the  dark  prophetic  eastern  eyes, 

Imperial  in  their  visionary  fire ; 

0,  steep  my  soul  in  that  old  glorious  time, 

When  God  s  own  whisper  shook  the  cedars  of  your  clime  ! 

Felicia  Hemcms. 


30 


SARA,  THE  PRINCESS. 


Brochart,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith . 


SARAH  THE  RRINCESS. 

woman  in  the  Christian  dispensation  lias  received 
’t  a  special  crown  of  honor.  Sarah,  the  wife  of  Abraham, 
mother  of  the  Jewish  nation,  is  to  this  day  an  object 
of  traditional  respect  and  homage  in  the  Christian 
Church.  Her  name  occurs  in  the  marriage  service  as  an  ex¬ 
ample  for  the  Christian  wife,  who  is  exhorted  to  meekness  and 
obedience  by  St.  Peter,  “  Even  as  Sarah  obeyed  Abraham,  call¬ 
ing  him  lord ;  whose  daughters  ye  are,  so  long  as  ye  do  well, 
and  are  not  subject  to  a  slavish  fear.” 

In  turning  to  the  narrative  of  the  Old  Testament,  however,  we 
are  led  to  feel  that  in  setting  Sarah  before  wives  as  a  model  of 
conjugal  behavior,  no  very  alarming  amount  of  subjection  or  sub¬ 
mission  is  implied. 

The  name  Sarah  means  “princess”;  and  from  the  Bible  story 
we  infer  that,  crowned  with  the  power  of  eminent  beauty,  and 
fully  understanding  the  sovereignty  it  gave  her  over  man,  Sarah 
was  virtually  empress  and  mistress  of  the  man  she  called  “  lord.” 
She  was  a  woman  who  understood  herself  and  him,  and  was  too 
wise  to  dispute  the  title  when  she  possessed  the  reality  of  sway; 
and  while  she  called  Abraham  “  lord,”  it  is  quite  apparent  from 
certain  little  dramatic  incidents  that  she  expected  him  to  use  his 
authority  in  the  line  of  her  wishes. 

In  going  back  to  these  Old  Testament  stories,  one  feels  a  cease¬ 
less  admiration  of  the  artless  simplicity  of  the  primitive  period 
of  which  they  are  the  only  memorial.  The  dew  of  earth’s  earlv 
morning  lies  on  it,  sparkling  and  undried ;  and  the  men  and 
women  speak  out  their  hearts  with  the  simplicity  of  little  chil¬ 
dren. 

In  Abraham  we  see  the  man  whom  God  designed  to  be  the 

31 


WOMAN  BY  SAC  BED  IIIS  TOBY. 

father  of  a  great  sacerdotal  nation ;  through  whom,  in  the  full¬ 
ness  of  time,  should  come  the  most  perfect  revelation  of  himself 
to  man,  by  Jesus  Christ.  In  choosing  the  man  to  found  such 
a  nation,  the  Divine  Being’  rejected  the  stormy  and  forcible 
characters  which  command  the  admiration  of  rude  men  in  early 
ages,  and  chose  one  of  gentler  elements. 

Abraham  was  distinguished  for  a  loving  heart,  a  tender  domes¬ 
tic  nature,  great  reverence,  patience,  and  fidelity,  a  childlike 
simplicity  of  faith,  and  a  dignified  self-possession.  Yet  he  was 
not  deficient  in  energy  or  courage  when  the  event  called  for  them. 
Alien  the  warring  tribes  of  the  neighborhood  had  swept  his  kins¬ 
man,  Lot,  into  captivity,  Abraham  came  promptly  to  the  rescue, 
and,  with  his  three  hundred  trained  servants,  pursued,  vanquished, 
and  rescued.  Though  he  loved  not  battle,  when  roused  for  a 
good  cause  he  fought  to  some  purpose. 

Over  the  heart  of  such  a  man,  a  beautiful,  queenly  woman 
held  despotic  sway.  Traveling  with  her  into  the  dominions 
of  foreign  princes,  he  is  possessed  by  one  harassing  fear.  The 
beauty  of  this  woman,  —  will  it  not  draw  the  admiration  of 
marauding  powers  ?  And  shall  I  not  be  murdered,  or  have  her 
torn  from  me  ?  And  so,  twice,  Abraham  resorts  to  the  stratagem 
of  concealing  their  real  relation,  and  speaking  of  her  as  his  sister. 
The  Rabbinic  traditions  elaborate  this  story  with  much  splendor 
of  imagery.  According  to  them,  Abraham  being  obliged  by 
famine  to  sojourn  in  Egypt,  rested  some  days  by  the  river 
Nile;  and  as  he  and  Sarah  walked  by  the  banks  of  the  river, 
and  he  beheld  her  wonderful  beauty  reflected  in  the  water,  he 
was  overwhelmed  with  fear  lest  she  should  be  taken  from  him, 
or  that  he  should  be  slain  for  her  sake.  So  he  persuaded  her 
to  pass  as  his  sister;  for,  as  he  says,  “she  was  the  daughter 
of  my  father,  but  not  of  my  mother.”  The  legend  goes  on  to 
say,  that,  as  a  further  precaution,  lie  had  her  placed  in  a  chest 
to  cross  the  frontier;  and  when  the  custom-house  officers  met 
them,  he  offered  to  pay  for  the  box  whatever  they  might  ask,  to 
pass  it  free. 

“  Does  it  contain  silks  ?  ”  asked  the  officers. 

“  I  will  pay  the  tenth  as  of  silk,”  he  replied. 

32 


SARAH  THE  PRINCESS. 

“  Does  it  contain  silver?  ”  they  inquired. 

“  I  will  pay  for  it  as  silver,”  answered  Abraham. 

“Nay,  then,  it  must  contain  gold.” 

“ 1  will  pay  for  it  as  gold.” 

“  May  be  it  contains  most  costly  gems.” 

“  I  will  pay  for  it  as  gems,”  he  persisted. 

In  the  struggle  the  box  was  broken  open,  and  in  it  was  seated 
a  beautiful  woman  whose  countenance  illumined  all  Egypt.  The 
news  reached  the  ears  of  Pharaoh,  and  he  sent  and  took  her. 

In  comparing  these  Rabinnic  traditions  with  the  Bible,  one  is 
immediately  struck  with  the  difference  in  quality,  —  the  dignified 
simplicity  of  the  sacred  narrative  contrasts  forcibly  with  the  fan¬ 
tastic  elaborations  of  tradition. 

The  Rabbinic  and  Alcoranic  stories  are  valuable,  however,  as 
showing  how  profound  an  impression  the  personality  of  these 
characters  had  left  on  mankind.  The  great  characters  of  the 
Biblical  story,  though  in  themselves  simple,  seemed,  like  the  sun, 
to  raise  around  them  many-colored  and  vaporous  clouds  of  myth 
and  story.  The  warmth  of  their  humanity  kept  them  enwreathed 
in  a  changing  mist  of  human  sympathies. 

The  falsehoods  which  Abraham  tells  are  to  be  estimated  not  by 
the  modern,  but  by  the  ancient  standard.  In  the  earlier  days  of 
the  world,  when  physical  force  ruled,  when  the  earth  was  covered 
with  warring  tribes,  skill  in  deception  was  counted  as  one  of  the 
forms  of  wisdom.  “The  crafty  Ulysses”  is  spoken  of  with  honor 
through  the  “  Odyssey  ”  for  his  skill  in  dissembling ;  and  the  Lace¬ 
demonian  youth  were  punished,  not  for  stealing  or  lying,  but  for 
performing  these  necessary  operations  in  a  bungling,  unskillful 
manner. 

In  a  day  when  it  was  rather  a  matter  of  course  for  a  prince  to 
help  himself  to  a  handsome  woman  wherever  he  could  find  her, 
and  kill  her  husband  if  he  made  any  objections,  a  weaker  party 
entering  the  dominions  of  a  powerful  prince  was  under  the  laws 
of  war. 

In  our  nineteenth  century  we  have  not  yet  grown  to  such 
maturity  as  not  to  consider  false  statements  and  stratagem  as 
legitimate  war  policy  in  dealing  with  an  enemy.  Abraham’s  ruse 

33 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

is  not,  therefore,  so  very  far  behind  even  the  practice  of  modern 
Christians.  That  he  should  have  employed  the  same  fruitless 
stratagem  twice,  seems  to  show  that  species  of  infatuation  on  the 
one  subject  of  a  beloved  woman,  which  has  been  the  “  last  infirm¬ 
ity  "  of  some  otherwise  strong  and  noble  men,  — wise  everywhere 
else,  but  weak  there. 

The  Rabbinic  legends  represent  Sarah  as  being  an  object  of 
ardent  admiration  to  Pharaoh,  who  pressed  his  suit  with  such 
vehemence  that  she  cried  to  God  for  deliverance,  and  told  the 
king  that  she  was  a  married  woman.  Then  —  according  to  this 
representation  —  he  sent  her  away  with  gifts,  and  even  extended 
his  complacency  so  far  as  to  present  her  with  his  daughter  Hagar 
as  a  handmaid,  —  a  legend  savoring  more  of  national  pride  than 
of  probability. 

In  the  few  incidents  related  of  Sarah  she  does  not  impress  us 
as  anything  more  than  the  beautiful  princess  of  a  nomadic  tribe, 
with  many  virtues  and  the  failings  that  usually  attend  beauty 
and  power. 

With  all  her  advantages  of  person  and  station,  Sarah  still  wanted 
what  every  woman  of  antiquity  considered  the  crowning  glory  of 
womanhood.  She  was  childless.  By  an  expedient  common  in 
those  early  days,  she  gives  her  slave  as  second  wife  to  her  hus¬ 
band,  whose  child  shall  be  her  own.  The  Rabbinic  tradition  says 
that  up  to  this  time  Hagar  had  been  tenderly  beloved  by  Sarah. 
The  prospect,  however,  of  being  mother  to  the  heir  of  the  family 
seems  to  have  turned  the  head  of  the  handmaid,  and  broken  the 
bonds  of  friendship  between  them. 

In  its  usual  naive  way,  the  Bible  narrative  represents  Sarah  as 
scolding  her  patient  husband  for  the  results  which  came  from  fol¬ 
lowing  her  own  advice.  Thus  she  complains,  in  view  of  Hagar’s 
insolence :  “  My  wrong  be  upon  thee.  I  have  given  my  maid 
unto  thy  bosom,  and  when  she  saw  that  she  had  conceived,  I  was 
despised  in  her  eyes.  The  Lord  judge  between  thee  and  me.” 

We  see  here  the  eager,  impulsive,  hot-hearted  woman,  accus¬ 
tomed  to  indulgence,  impatient  of  trouble,  and  perfectly  certain 
that  she  is  in  the  right,  and  that  the  Lord  himself  must  think  so. 
Abraham,  as  a  well-bred  husband,  answers  pacifically  :  “  Behold, 

34 


SARAH  THE  PRINCESS. 

tliy  maid  is  in  thy  hand,  to  do  as  pleasetli  thee.”  And  so  it 
pleased  Sarah  to  deal  so  hardly  with  her  maid  that  she  fled  to  the 
wilderness. 

Finally,  the  domestic  broil  adjusts  itself.  The  Divine  Father, 
who  watches  alike  over  all  his  creatures,  sends  back  the  im¬ 
petuous  slave  from  the  wilderness,  exhorted  to  patience,  and  com¬ 
forted  with  a  promise  of  a  future  for  her  son. 

Then  comes  the  beautiful  idyl  of  the  three  angels,  who  an¬ 
nounce  the  future  birth  of  the  long-desired  heir.  We  could 
wish  all  our  readers,  who  may  have  fallen  out  of  the  way  of 
reading  the  Old  Testament,  to  turn  again  to  the  eighteenth  chap¬ 
ter  of  Genesis,  and  see  the  simple  picture  of  those  olden  days. 
Notice  the  beautiful  hospitality  of  reception.  The  Emir  rushes 
himself  to  his  herd  to  choose  the  fatted  calf,  and  commands  the 
princess  to  make  ready  the  meal,  and  knead  the  cakes.  Then 
comes  the  repast.  The  announcement  of  the  promised  blessing, 
at  which  Sarah  laughs  in  incredulous  surprise ;  the  grave  rebuke 
of  the  angels,  and  Sarah’s  white  lie,  with  the  angel’s  steady  an¬ 
swer,  —  are  all  so  many  characteristic  points  of  the  story.  Sarah, 
in  all  these  incidents,  is,  with  a  few  touches,  made  as  real  flesh 
and  blood  as  any  woman  in  the  pages  of  Shakespeare,  —  not  a 
saint,  but  an  average  mortal,  with  all  the  foibles,  weaknesses,  and 
variabilities  that  pertain  to  womanhood,  and  to  womanhood  in  an 
early  age  of  imperfectly  developed  morals. 

We  infer  from  the  general  drift  of  the  story,  that  Sarah,  like  most 
Avarm-hearted  and  passionate  Avomen,  Avas,  in  the  main,  a  kindly, 
motherly  creature,  and  that,  Avlien  her  maid  returned  and  submit¬ 
ted,  she  Avas  reconciled  to  her.  At  all  eArents,  avc  find  that  the  son 
of  the  bondwoman  was  born  and  nurtured  under  her  roof,  along 
with  her  OAvn  son  Isaac.  It  is  in  keeping  with  our  conception  of 
Sarah,  that  she  should  at  times  have  ovenvhelmed  Hagar  Avith 
kindness,  and  helped  her  through  the  trials  of  motherhood,  and 
petted  the  little  Ishmael  till  he  greAv  too  saucy  to  be  endured. 

The  JeAvish  mother  nursed  her  child  three  years.  The  Avean- 
ing  Avas  made  a  great  fete ,  and  Sarah’s  maternal  exultation  at  this 
crisis  of  her  life,  displayed  itself  in  festal  preparations.  We  hear 
her  saying:  “God  hath  made  me  to  laugh,  so  that  all  that  hear 

35 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

will  lauffh  with  me.  Who  would  have  said  unto  Abraham  that 
Sarah  should  have  given  children  suck  ?  for  I  have  borne  him  a 
son  in  his  old  age.” 

In  the  height  of  this  triumph,  she  saw  the  son  of  the  Egyptian 
woman  mocking,  and  all  the  hot  blood  of  the  woman,  mother,  and 
princess  flushed  up,  and  she  said  to  her  husband:  “Cast  out  this 
bondwoman  and  her  son ;  for  the  son  of  this  bondwoman  shall 
not  be  heir  with  my  son,  even  with  Isaac.” 

We  are  told  “  the  thing  was  very  grievous  in  Abraham’s  sight 
because  of  his  son.”  But  a  higher  power  confirms  the  hasty, 
instinctive  impulse  of  the  mother.  The  God  of  nations  saw  in 
each  of  these  infant  boys  the  seed-forms  of  a  race  with  a  history 
and  destiny  apart  from  each  other,  and  Abraham  is  comforted 
with  the  thought  that  a  fatherly  watch  will  be  kept  over  both. 

Last  of  all  we  come  to  the  simple  and  touching  announcement 
of  the  death  of  this  woman,  so  truly  loved  to  the  last.  “  And 
Sarah  was  a  hundred  and  seven  and  twenty  years  old :  these  were 
the  years  of  the  life  of  Sarah.  And  Sarah  died  in  Kirjath-arba ; 
the  same  is  Hebron  in  the  land  of  Canaan  ;  and  Abraham  came  to 
mourn  for  Sarah,  and  to  weep  for  her.”  It  is  a  significant  token  of 
the  magnificent  physical  vigor  with  which  that  early  age  was  en¬ 
dowed,  that  now,  for  the  first  time,  the  stroke  of  death  has  fallen 
on  the  family  of  Abraham,  and  he  is  forced  to  seek  a  burial-place. 
Sarah,  the  beautiful  princess,  the  crowned  mother  of  a  great 
nation,  the  beloved  wife,  is  dead ;  and  Abraham,  constant  lover 
in  age  as  youth,  lays  her  away  with  tears.  To  him  she  is  ever 
young ;  for  love  confers  on  its  object  eternal  youth. 

A  beautiful  and  peculiar  passage  in  the  history  describes  the 
particulars  of  the  purchase  of  this  burial-place.  All  that  love  can 
give  to  the  fairest,  most  beautiful,  and  dearest  is  a  tomb ;  and 
Abraham  refuses  to  take  as  a  gift  from  the  nobles  of  the  land 
so  sacred  a  spot.  It  must  be  wholly  his  own,  bought  with  his 
own  money.  The  sepulchre  of  Machpelah,  from  the  hour  it  was 
consecrated  by  the  last  sleep  of  the  mother  of  the  tribe,  became 
the  calm  and  sacred  resting-place  to  which  the  eyes  of  children’s 
children  turned.  So  Jacob,  her  grandson,  in  his  dying  hour, 
remembered  it :  — 

36 


SARAH  TIIE  PRINCESS. 


u  Bury  me  with  my  fathers  in  the  cave  that  is  in  the  field 
of  Ephron  the  Hittite.  There  they  buried  Abraham  and  Sarah 
his  wife ;  there  they  buried  Isaac  and  Rebekali  his  wife,  and 
there  I  buried  Leah.” 

Two  powerful  and  peculiar  nations  still  regard  this  sepulchre 
with  Veneration,  and  cherish  with  reverence  the  memory  of  Sarah 
the  Princess. 


THE  CAYE  OF  MACHPELAH. 


ALM  is  it  in  the  dim  cathedral  cloister, 

Where  lie  the  dead  all  couched  in  marble  rare, 

Where  the  shades  thicken,  and  the  breath  hangs  moister 


Than  in  the  sunlit  air. 


Where  the  chance  ray  that  makes  the  carved  stone  whiter, 
Tints  with  a  crimson  or  a  violet  light 
Some  pale  old  bishop  with  his  staff  and  mitre, 

Some  stiff  crusading  knight ! 


Sweet  is  it  where  the  little  graves  fling  shadows 
In  the  green  churchyard,  on  the  shaven  grass, 
And  a  faint  cowslip  fragrance  from  the  meadows 
O’er  the  low  wall  doth  pass  ! 

More  sweet,  more  calm  in  that  fair  valley’s  bosom 
The  burial-place  in  Ephron’s  pasture-ground, 
Where  the  oil-olive  shed  her  snowy  blossom, 

And  the  red  grape  was  found  ; 


When  the  great  pastoral  prince,  with  love  undying, 
Rose  up  in  anguish  from  the  face  of  death, 

And  weighed  the  silver  shekels  for  its  buying 
Before  the  sons  of  Heth. 

Here,  when  the  measure  of  his  days  was  numbered,  — 
Days  few  and  evil  in  this  vale  of  tears  !  — 

At  Sarah’s  side  the  faithful  patriarch  slumbered, 

An  old  man  full  of  years  : 


38 


THE  CAVE  OF  MAC  1IP  EL  AIL 

Here,  holy  Isaac,  meek  of  heart  and  gentle, 

And  the  fair  maid  who  came  to  him  from  far, 

And  the  sad  sire  who  knew  all  throes  parental, 

And  meek-eyed  Leah,  are. 

She  rests  not  here,  the  beautiful  of  feature, 

For  whom  her  Jacob  wrought  his  years  twice  o’er, 
And  deemed  them  but  as  one,  for  that  fair  creature, 

-  -  So  dear  the  love  he  bore,  — 

Nor  Israel’s  son  beloved,*  who  brought  him  sleeping 
With  a  long  pomp  of  wroe  to  Canaan’s  shade, 

Till  all  the  people  wondered  at  the  weeping 
By  the  Egyptians  made. 

Like  roses  from  the  same  tree  gathered  yearly, 

And  Hung  together  in  one  vase  to  keep,  — 

Some,  but  not  all  who  loved  so  well  and  dearly, 

Lie  here  in  quiet  sleep. 

What  though  the  Moslem  mosque  be  in  the  valley, 
Though  faithless  hands  have  sealed  the  sacred  cave, 
And  the  red  Prophet’s  children  shout  “  El  Allah ! 

Over  the  Hebrews’  grave; 

Yet  a  day  cometh  when  those  white  walls  shaking 
Shall  give  again  to  light  the  living  dead, 

And  Abraham,  Isaac,  Jacob,  reawaking, 

Spring  from  their  rocky  bed. 

Mrs.  C.  F.  Alexander. 


*  “  And  the  bones  of  Joseph  buried  they  in  Shechem/’  —  Josh.  xxiv.  32. 

39 


HAGAR  AND  ISIIMAEL. 


Koehler,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


HAGAR  THE  SLAVE. 


U  STRIKING  pendant  to  the  picture  of  Sarah  the  Prin¬ 
cess  is  that  of  Hagar  the  Slave. 

In  the  Bible  narrative  she  is  called  simply  Hagar 
the  Egyptian ;  and  as  Abraham  sojourned  some  time  in 
the  land  ol  Egypt,  we  are  to  suppose  that  this  acquisition  to  the 
family  was  then  made.  Slavery,  in  the  early  patriarchal  period, 
had  few  of  the  horrors  which  beset  it  in  more  modern  days.  The 
condition  of  a  slave  more  nearly  resembled  that  of  the  child  of 
the  house  than  that  of  a  modern  servant.  The  slave  was  looked 
upon,  in  default  of  children,  as  his  master’s  heir,  as  was  the  case 
with  Eliezer  of  Damascus,  the  confidential  servant  of  Abraham ; 
the  latter,  when  speaking  to  God  of  his  childless  condition  says : 
“  Lo !  one  born  in  my  house  is  mine  heir.”  In  like  manner 
there  is  a  strong  probability  in  the  legend  which  represents 
Hagar  as  having  been  the  confidential  handmaid  of  Sarah,  and 
treated  by  her  with  peculiar  tenderness. 

When  the  fear  of  being  childless  seized  upon  her,  Sarah  was 
willing  to  exalt  one,  who  was  as  a  second  self  to  her,  to  the  rank 
of  an  inferior  wife,  according  to  the  customs  of  those  early  days ; 
intending  to  adopt  and  treat  as  her  own  the  child  of  her  hand¬ 
maid.  But  when  the  bondwoman  found  herself  thus  exalted,  and 
when  the  crowning  honor  of  prospective  motherhood  was  con¬ 
ferred  upon  her,  her  ardent  tropical  blood  boiled  over  in  unseemly 
exultation,  —  “  her  mistress  was  despised  in  her  eves.” 

Probably  under  the  flapping  curtains  of  the  pastoral  tent,  as 
under  the  silken  hangings  of  palaces,  there  were  to  be  found 
flatterers  and  mischief-makers  ready  to  fill  the  weak,  credulous 
ear  with  their  suggestions.  Hagar  was  about  to  become  mother 
of  the  prince  and  heir  of  the  tribe ;  her  son  one  day  should  be 
their  chief  and  ruler,  while  Sarah,  childless  and  uncrowned, 

41 


WOMAN  m  SAC  BED  HIS  TOBY. 

should  sink  to  a  secondary  rank.  Why  should  she  obey  the 
commands  of  Sarah? 

Our  idea  of  Sarah  is  that  of  a  warm-hearted,  generous,  boun¬ 
tiful  woman,  with  an  intense  sense  of  personal  dignity  and 
personal  rights,  — just  the  woman  to  feel  herself  beyond  measure 
outraged  by  this  unexpected  result  of  what  she  must  have  looked 
upon  as  unexampled  favor.  In  place  of  a  grateful,  devoted 
creature,  identified  with  her  interests,  whose  child  should  be  to  her 
as  her  own  child,  she  finds  herself  confronted  with  an  imperious 
rival,  who  lays  claim  to  her  place  and  position. 

The  struggle  was  one  that  has  been  witnessed  many  a  time 
since  in  families  so  constituted,  and  with  such  false  elements. 
Abraham,  peace-loving  and  quiet,  stands  neutral ;  confident,  as 
many  men  are,  of  the  general  ability  of  the  female  sex,  by  in¬ 
scrutable  ways  and  methods  of  their  own,  to  find  their  way  out 
of  the  troubles  they  bring  themselves  into.  Probably  he  saw 
wrong  on  both  sides ;  yet  Hagar,  as  the  dependent,  who  owed 
all  the  elevation  on  which  she  prided  herself  to  the  good-will  of 
her  mistress,  was  certainly  the  more  in  fault  of  the  two ;  and  so 
he  dismisses  the  subject  with :  “  Thy  maid  is  in  thy  hand ;  do 
with  her  as  pleaseth  thee.” 

The  next  we  hear  of  the  proud,  hot-hearted,  ungoverned  slave- 
girl,  is  her  flight  to  the  wilderness  in  a  tumult  of  indignation  and 
grief,  doubtless  after  bitter  words  and  hard  usage  from  the  once 
indulgent  mistress.  But  iioav  comes  into  the  history  the  presence 
of  the  Father  God,  in  whose  eye  all  human  beings  are  equal,  and 
who  looks  down  on  the  boiling  strifes  and  hot  passions  of  us  all 
below,  as  a  mother  on  the  quarrels  of  little  children  in  the 
nursery.  For  this  was  the  world’s  infancy,  and  each  character 
in  the  drama  represented  a  future  nation  for  whom  the  All-Father 
was  caring. 

So  when  the  violent,  desolate  creature  had  sobbed  herself 
weary  in  the  lonesome  desert,  the  story  says:  “And  the  angel 
of  the  Lord  found  her  by  a  fountain  of  water,  in  the  way  to 
Shur.  And  he  said,  Hagar,  Sarah’s  maid,  whence  earnest  thou  ? 
and  whither  wilt  thou  go  ?  And  she  said,  I  flee  from  the  face 
of  my  mistress,  Sarah.” 

42 


II A  GAR  THE  SLAVE. 


In  this  calm  question  there  is  a  reminder  of  duty  violated,  and 
in  the  submissive  answer  is  an  acknowledgment  of  that  duty. 
The  angel  calls  her  “  Sarah’s  maid,”  and  she  replies,  “  my  mis¬ 
tress,  Sarah.” 

“  And  the  angel  of  the  Lord  said  unto  her,  Return  to  thy 
mistress,  and  submit  thyself  under  her  hands.”  Then,  as  with 
awe  and  submission  she  rises  to  go,  she  is  comforted  with  prom¬ 
ises  of  gracious  tenderness.  The  All-Father  does  not  take  part 
with  her  in  her  rebellious  pride,  nor  in  her  haughty  desire  to 
usurp  the  station  and  honors  of  her  mistress,  and  yet  he  has  sym¬ 
pathy  for  that  strong,  awakening  feeling  of  motherhood  which 
makes  the  wild  girl  of  the  desert  begin  at  once  to  crave  station 
and  place  on  earth  for  the  son  she  is  to  bring  into  it.  So  the  story 
goes  on  :  “  And  the  angel  of  the  Lord  said  unto  her,  I  will  multiply 
thy  seed  exceedingly,  that  it  shall  not  be  numbered  for  multitude. 
And  the  angel  of  the  Lord  said  unto  her,  Behold,  thou  art  with 
child,  and  shalt  bear  a  son,  and  slialt  call  his  name  Ishmael, 
because  the  Lord  hath  heard  thy  affliction.  And  he  will  be  a 
wild  man ;  his  hand  will  be  against  every  man,  and  every  man’s 
hand  against  him ;  and  he  shall  dwell  in  the  presence  of  all  his 
brethren.  And  she  called  the  name  of  the  Lord  that  spake  unto 
her,  Thou  God  seest  me :  for  she  said,  Have  I  also  here  looked 
after  him  that  seeth  me  ?  ” 

This  little  story  is  so  universally  and  beautifully  significant  of 
our  every-day  human  experience,  that  it  has  almost  the  force 
of  an  allegory. 

Who  of  us  has  not  yielded  to  despairing  grief,  while  flowing 
bv  us  were  unnoticed  sources  of  consolation  i  The  angel  did  not 
create  the  spring  in  the  desert :  it  was  there  all  the  while,  but 
Hagar  was  blinded  by  her  tears.  She  was  not  seeking  God, 
but  he  was  seeking  her.  How  often  may  we,  all  of  us,  in  the 
upliftings  and  deliverances  of  our  life,  say  as  she  did,  “  Have  I 
here  looked  after  him  that  seeth  me?” 

The  narrative  adds,  “Wherefore  the  spring  was  called  The 
Well  of  Him  that  Livetli  and  Seeth  Me .” 

That  spring  is  still  flowing  by  our  daily  path. 

So,  quieted  and  subdued  and  comforted,  llagar  returns  to  her 

43 


WOMAN  IN  S ACRED  HISTORY. 

mistress  and  her  home,  and  we  infer  from  the  story,  that,  with 
submission  on  her  part,  kindness  and  bounty  returned  on  the  part 
of  her  mistress.  She  again  becomes  a  member  of  the  family. 
Her  son  is  born,  and  grows  up  for  twelve  years  under  the  shadow 
of  Abraham’s  tent,  and  evidently,  from  the  narrative,  is  fondly 
beloved  by  his  father,  and  indulgently  treated  by  his  foster- 
mother. 

In  an  hour  of  confidential  nearness  the  Divine  Father  an¬ 
nounces  to  Abraham  that  a  son  shall  be  given  him  by  the 
wife  of  his  heart. 

“As  for  Sarah,  thy  wife,  I  will  bless  her,  and  give  thee  a  son 
of  her,  and  she  shall  be  a  mother  of  nations ;  kings  of  people  shall 
be  of  her.  Then  Abraham  fell  upon  his  face  and  laughed,  and 
said  in  his  heart :  Shall  a  child  be  born  to  him  that  is  an  hundred 
years  old,  and  shall  Sarah,  that  is  ninety  years  old,  bear?”  Yet, 
in  this  moment  of  triumphant  joy,  his  heart  yearns  after  Ishmael; 
“And  Abraham  said  unto  God:  0  that  Ishmael  might  live 
before  thee!”  And  the  Divine  answer  is:  “As  for  Ishmael,  I 
have  heard  thee.  Behold,  I  have  blessed  him,  and  will  make 
him  fruitful,  and  will  multiply  him  exceedingly ;  twelve  princes 
shall  he  beget,  and  I  will  make  him  a  great  nation.” 

But  now  comes  the  hour  long  waited  for,  of  Sarah’s  triumph,  — 
the  fulfillment  of  the  desires  of  her  life.  A  generous  heart  would 
have  sympathized  in  her  triumph.  A  mother  who  had  known  the 
blessedness  of  motherhood  would  have  rejoiced  when  the  mistress 
who  had  done  so  much  for  her  was  made  so  joyful.  If  her  own 
son  be  not  the  heir  in  succession,  yet  an  assured  future  is  prom¬ 
ised  to  him.  But  the  dark  woman  and  her  wild  son  are  of  un¬ 
tamable  elements.  They  can  no  more  become  one  in  spirit  with 
the  patriarchal  family,  than  oil  can  mix  with  water.  When  the 
weaning  feast  is  made,  and  all  surround  the  little  Isaac,  when  the 
mother’s  heart  overflows  with  joy,  she  sees  the  graceless  Ishmael 
mocking;  and  instantly,  with  a  woman’s  lightning  prescience, 
she  perceives  the  dangers,  the  impossibilities  of  longer  keeping 
these  aliens  under  the  same  roof, — the  feuds,  the  jealousies,  the 
fierce  quarrels  of  the  future. 

“  Cast  out  this  bondwoman  and  her  son,”  she  says,  with  the 

44 


II AGAR  THE  SLAVE. 


air  of  one  accustomed  to  command  and  decide  ;  “  for  the  son 
of  this  bondwoman  shall  not  be  heir  with  my  son,  even  with 
Isaac.” 

It  appears  that  Abraham  had  set  his  heart  on  the  bov,  and  had 
hoped  to  be  able  to  keep  both  in  one  family,  and  divide  his 
inheritance  between  them  ;  but  it  was  otherwise  decreed.  “  And 
God  said  to  Abraham,  Let  it  not  be  grievous  in  thy  sight,  because 
of  the  lad  and  because  of  thy  bondwoman :  in  all  that  Sarah  hath 
said  unto  thee,  hearken  unto  her  voice  ;  for  in  Isaac  shall  tin'  seed 
be  called.  And  also  of  the  son  of  the  bondwoman  will  I  make  a 
nation,  because  he  is  thy  seed.  And  Abraham  arose  up  early, 
and  took  bread  and  a  bottle  of  water  and  gave  it  to  Hagar,  put¬ 
ting  it  on  her  shoulder,  and  sent  her  away  with  the  child  ;  and  she 
departed  and  wandered  in  the  wilderness  of  Beersheba.”  Prob¬ 
ably  she  was  on  the  road  towards  Egypt.  “And  the  water  was 
all  spent  in  the  bottle,  and  she  cast  the  child  under  one  of  the 
shrubs ;  and  she  went  away  and  sat  her  down  over  against  him 
a  good  way  off,  as  it  were  a  bow-shot,  for  she  said,  Let  me  not 
see  the  death  of  the  child ;  and  she  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept." 

Poor,  fiery,  impatient  creature !  —  moaning  like  a  wounded  leop¬ 
ardess,  —  apparently  with  no  heart  to  remember  the  kindly  Pow  er 
that  once  before  helped  her  in  her  sorrows;  but  the  story 
goes  on :  “  And  God  heard  the  voice  of  the  lad ;  and  the  angel 
of  the  Lord  called  to  Hagar  out  of  heaven,  and  said  unto 
her,  What  ailetli  thee,  Hagar  ?  Fear  not,  for  God  hath  heard  the 
voice  of  the  lad  where  he  is.  Arise,  lift  up  the  lad,  and  hold 
him  in  thy  hand;  for  I  will  make  of  him  a  great  nation.  And 
God  opened  her  eyes,  and  she  saw  a  well  of  water;  and  die 
went  and  filled  the  bottle  with  water  and  gave  the  lad  drink. 
And  God  was  with  the  lad,  and  he  grew,  and  dwelt  in  the 
wilderness  and  became  an  archer.  And  he  dwelt  in  the  wilder¬ 
ness  of  Paran;  and  his  mother  took  him  a  wife  out  ot  the  land 


of  Egypt.” 

In  all  this  story,  nothing  impresses  us  so  much  as  tlie  absence 
of  all  modern  technical  or  theological  ideas  respecting  the  Hod 
who  is  represented  here  as  sowing  the  seed  of  nations  with  a  "  ><■ 
foresight  of  the  future.  As  a  skillful  husbandman,  bent  on  pel- 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  IIIST  OB  Y. 

footing'  a  certain  seed,  separates  it  from  all  others,  and  grows  it 
by  itself,  so  the  Bible  tells  us  that  God  selected  a  certain  stock  to 
be  trained  and  cultivated  into  the  sacerdotal  race,  through  which 
should  come  his  choicest  revelations  to  man.  Of  this  race  in  its 
final  outcome  and  perfected  flowering  was  to  spring  forth  Jesus, 
spoken  of  as  the  Branch  of  this  sacred  tree.  For  the  formation  of 
this  race,  we  see  a  constant  choice  of  the  gentler  and  quieter  ele¬ 
ments  of  blood  and  character,  and  the  persistent  rejection  of  that 
which  is  wild,  fierce,  and  ungovernable.  Yet  it  is  with  no  fond 
partiality  for  the  one,  or  antipathy  to  the  other,  that  the  Father 
of  both  thus  decides.  The  thoughtful,  patient,  meditative  Isaac 
is  chosen ;  the  wild,  hot-blooded,  impetuous  Islnnael  is  rejected, 
—  not  as  in  themselves  better  or  worse,  but  as  in  relation  to  their 
adaptation  to  a  great  purpose  of  future  good  to  mankind.  The 
ear  of  the  All-Father  is  as  near  to  the  cry  of  the  passionate,  hot- 
tempered  slave,  and  the  moans  of  the  wild,  untamable  boy,  as  to 
those  of  the  patriarch.  We  are  told  that  God  was  with  Ishmael 
in  his  wild  growth  as  a  hunter  in  the  desert,  —  his  protector  from 
harm,  the  guardian  of  his  growing  family,  according  to  the  prom¬ 
ise  made  to  Abraham. 

When  the  aged  patriarch  is  gathered  to  his  fathers  at  the  age 
of  a  hundred  and  seventy-five  years,  it  is  recorded :  “  And  Abra¬ 
ham  gave  up  the  ghost  in  a  good  old  age,  an  old  man  and  full 
of  years ;  and  his  sons,  Isaac  and  Ishmael,  buried  him  in  the 
cave  of  Machpelah,  in  the  field  that  Abraham  purchased  of  the 
sons  of  Heth ;  there  was  Abraham  buried,  and  Sarah  his  wife.” 

The  subsequent  history  of  the  nation  which  Ishmael  founded, 
shows  that  the  promises  of  God  were  faithfully  kept. 

The  Arab  race  has  ever  been  a  strongly  marked  people.  They 
have  been  worshipers  of  the  one  God,  and,  at  one  time,  under 
the  califs,  rose  to  a  superiority  in  art,  science,  and  literature  be¬ 
yond  that  of  so-called  Christian  nations. 

The  race  of  Ishmael  is  yet  as  vigorous  and  as  peculiar,  and  as 
likely  to  perpetuate  itself,  as  the  race  of  Isaac  and  Jacob  ;  and  as 
God  was  near  to  the  cries  and  needs  of  the  wild  mother  of  the 
race  and  her  wild  offspring,  so,  doubtless,  he  has  heard  the  prayer 
that  has  gone  up  from  many  an  Arab  tent  in  the  desert. 

46 


HAG  AH  THE  SLAVE. 


The  besetting-  sin  of  a  select  people  is  the  growth  of  a  spirit 
of  haughty  self-sufficiency  among  them.  In  time  the  Jews 
came  to  look  upon  themselves  as  God’s  only  favorites,  and 
upon  all  other  nations  as  outcasts.  It  is  this  spirit  that  is  re¬ 
buked  by  the  prophet  Amos  (ix.)  when,  denouncing  the  recre¬ 
ant  children  of  Israel,  he  says,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord:  “Are 
ye  not  as  children  of  the  Ethiopians  unto  me,  0  children  of 
Israel  1  saith  the  Lord.  Have  not  I  brought  up  Israel  out  of 
the  land  of  Egypt  ?  and  the  Philistines  from  Caphtor,  and  the 
Syrians  from  Kir  ?  ” 

There  is  a  deep  comfort  in  this  record  of  God’s  goodness  to 
a  poor,  blinded,  darkened,  passionate  slave-woman,  nowise  a 
model  for  imitation,  yet  tenderly  watched  over  and  succored 
and  cared  for  in  her  needs.  The  Father  unsought  is  ever  seek¬ 
ing.  He  who  said,  “What  aileth  thee,  Hagar?”  is  he  who, 
in  later  times,  said  that  he  came  to  seek  and  to  save  the  lost. 
Not  to  the  saintly  and  the  righteous  only,  or  mostly,  but  to 
the  wayward,  the  sinful,  the  desperate,  the  despairing,  to  those 
whose  troubles  come  of  their  own  folly  and  their  own  sin,  is 
the  angel  sent  to  console,  to  promise,  to  open  the  blind  eyes 
upon  the  fountain  which  is  ever  near  us  in  life’s  desert,  though 
we  cannot  perceive  it. 


HAGAR  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


HE  morning  broke.  Light  stole  upon  the  clouds 
With  a  strange  beauty.  Earth  received  again 
Its  garment  of  a  thousand  dyes  ;  and  leaves, 
And  delicate  blossoms,  and  the  painted  flowers, 

And  everything  that  bendeth  to  the  dew 
And  stirreth  with  the  daylight,  lifted  up 
Its  beauty  to  the  breath  of  that  sweet  morn. 

All  things  are  dark  to  sorrow ;  and  the  light 
And  loveliness  and  fragrant  air  were  sad 
To  the  dejected  Hagar.  The  moist  earth 
W  as  pouring  odors  from  its  spicy  pores, 

And  the  young  birds  were  singing  as  if  life 
Were  a  new  thing  to  them  ;  but  oh  !  it  came 
Upon  her  heart  like  discord,  and  she  felt 
How  cruelly  it  tries  a  broken  heart, 

To  see  a  mirth  in  anything  it  loves. 

She  stood  at  Abraham’s  tent.  Her  lips  were  pressed 
Till  the  blood  started  ;  and  the  wandering  veins 
Of  her  transparent  forehead  were  swelled  out, 

As  if  her  pride  would  burst  them.  Her  dark  eye 
AY  as  clear  and  tearless,  and  the  light  of  heaven, 

Which  made  its  language  legible,  shot  back 
From  her  long  lashes,  as  it  had  been  flame. 

Her  noble  boy  stood  by  her,  with  his  hand 
Clasped  in  her  own,  and  his  round,  delicate  feet, 

Scarce  trained  to  balance  on  the  tented  floor, 

Sandaled  for  journeying.  He  had  looked  up 
Into  his  mother’s  face  until  he  caught 
The  spirit  there,  and  his  young  heart  was  swelling 
Beneath  his  dimpled  bosom,  and  his  form 
Straightened  up  proudly  in  his  tiny  wrath, 

As  if  his  light  proportions  would  have  swelled, 

Had  they  but  matched  his  spirit,  to  the  mail. 

48 


HAG  All  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

Why  bends  the  patriarch  as  he  cometh  now 
Upon  his  staff  so  wearily  ?  Ilis  beard 
Is  low  upon  his  breast,  and  his  high  brow, 

So  written  with  the  converse  of  his  Coil, 

Beareth  the  swollen  vein  of  agony. 

Ilis  lip  is  quivering,  and  his  wonted  step 
Of  vigor  is  not  there ;  and,  though  the  morn 
Is  passing  fair  and  beautiful,  he  breathes 
Its  freshness  as  it  were  a  pestilence. 

O,  man  may  bear  with  suffering :  his  heart 
Is  a  strong  thing,  and  godlike,  in  the  grasp 
Of  pain  that  wrings  mortality ;  but  tear 
One  chord  affection  clings  to  —  part  one  tie 
That  binds  him  to  a  woman’s  delicate  love  — 

And  his  great  spirit  yieldeth  like  a  reed  ! 

He  gave  to  her  the  water  and  the  bread, 

But  spoke  no  word,  and  trusted  not  himself 
To  look  upon  her  face,  but  laid  his  hand 
In  silent  blessing  on  the  fair-haired  boy, 

And  left  her  to  her  lot  of  loneliness. 

Should  Hagar  weep  ?  May  slighted  woman  turn 
And,  as  a  vine  the  oak  lmth  shaken  off. 

Bend  lightly  to  her  leaning  trust  again  ? 

O  no  !  by  all  her  loveliness,  by  all 
That  makes  life  poetry  and  beauty,  no  ! 

Make  her  a  slave  ;  steal  from  her  rosy  cheek 
By  needless  jealousies  ;  let  the  last  star 
Leave  her  a  watcher  by  your  couch  of  pain  ; 

Wrong  her  by  petulance,  suspicion,  all 
That  makes  her  cup  a  bitterness,  —  yet  give 
One  evidence  of  love,  and  earth  has  not 
An  emblem  of  devotedness  like'  here. 

But  oh  !  estrange  her  once  —  it  boots  not  how  — 

By  wrong  or  silence,  —  anything  that  tells 
A  change  has  come  upon  your  tenderness,  — 

And  there  is  not  a  feeling  out  of  heaven 
Her  pride  o’ermastercth  not. 

She  went  her  way  with  a  strong  step  and  slow,  — 
Her  pressed  lip  arched,  and  her  clear  eye  undimmed, 

49 


WOMAN*  IX  SAG  RED  HIS  TO  BY. 

As  if  it  were  a  diamond,  and  her  form 

Borne  proudly  up,  as  if  her  heart  breathed  through. 

Her  child  kept  ou  in  silence,  though  she  pressed 
His  hand  till  it  was  pained ;  for  he  had  caught, 

As  I  have  said,  her  spirit,  and  the  seed 
Of  a  stern  nation  had  been  breathed  upon. 

The  morning  past,  and  Asia’s  sun  rode  up 
In  the  clear  heaven,  and  every  beam  was  heat. 

The  cattle  of  the  hills  were  in  the  shade, 

And  the  bright  plumage  of  the  Orient  lay 
On  beating  bosoms  in  her  spicy  trees. 

It  was  an  hour  of  rest !  but  Hagar  found 

No  shelter  in  the  wilderness,  and  on 

She  kept  her  weary  way,  until  the  boy 

Hung  down  his  head,  and  opened  his  parched  lips 

For  water ;  but  she  could  not  give  it  him. 

She  laid  him  down  beneath  the  sultry  sky,  — 

For  it  was  better  than  the  close,  Hot  breath 
Of  the  thick  pines,  —  and  tried  to  comfort  him ; 

But  he  was  sore  athirst,  and  his  blue  eyes 
W  ere  dim  and  bloodshot,  and  he  could  not  know 
Why  God  denied  him  water  in  the  wild. 

She  sat  a  little  longer,  and  he  grew 
Ghastly  and  faint,  as  if  lie  would  have  died. 

It  was  too  much  for  her.  She  lifted  him 
And  bore  him  farther  on,  and  laid  his  head 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  a  desert  shrub  ; 

And,  shrouding  up  her  face,  she  went  away, 

And  sat  to  watch,  where  he  could  see  her  not, 

Till  he  should  die ;  and,  watching  him,  she  mourned :  — 

“  God  stay  thee  in  thine  agony,  my  boy  ! 

I  cannot  see  thee  die  ;  I  cannot  brook 
Upon  thy  brow  to  look, 

And  see  death  settle  on  my  cradle  joy. 

How  have  I  drunk  the  light  of  thy  blue  eye  ! 

And  could  I  see  thee  die  ? 

“  I  did  not  dream  of  this  when  thou  wast  straying, 

Like  an  unbound  gazelle,  among  the  flowers ; 

Or  wiling  the  soft  hours, 

50 


HAG  All  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


By  the  rich  gush  of  water-sources  playing, 

Then  sinking  weary  to  thy  smiling  sleep, 

So  beautiful  and  deep. 

“  0  no  !  and  when  I  watched  by  thee  the  while, 

And  saw  thy  bright  lip  curling  in  thy  dream, 

And  thought  of  the  dark  stream 
In  my  own  land  of  Egypt,  the  far  Nile, 

How  prayed  I  that  my  father’s  land  might  be 
A  heritage  for  thee  ! 

“  And  now  the  grave  for  its  cold  breast  hath  won  thee, 
And  thy  white,  delicate  limbs  the  earth  will  press ; 

And  O,  my  last  caress 

Must  feel  thee  cold,  for  a  chill  hand  is  on  thee. 

How  can  I  leave  my  boy,  so  pillowed  there 
Upon  his  clustering  hair  !  ” 

She  stood  beside  the  well  her  God  had  given 
To  gush  in  that  deep  wilderness,  and  bathed 
The  forehead  of  her  child  until  lie  laughed 
In  his  reviving  happiness,  and  lisped 
His  infant  thought  of  gladness  at  the  sight 
Of  the  cool  plashing  of  his  mother’s  hand. 


51 


Nathaniel  I\  Willis. 


REBEKAH. 


Landelle, 


Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


REBEKAH  THE  BRIDE. 

N  the  pictures  which  the  Bible  opens  to  us  of  the 
domestic  life  of  the  patriarchal  ages,  we  have  one  per¬ 
fectly  characteristic  and  beautiful  idyl  of  a  wooing  and 
wedding,  according  to  the  customs  of  those  days.  In 
its  sweetness  and  sacred  simplicity,  it  is  a  marvelous  contrast 
to  the  wedding  of  our  modern  fashionable  life. 

Sarah,  the  beautiful  and  beloved,  has  been  laid  away  in  the 
dust,  and  Isaac,  the  cherished  son,  is  now  forty  years  old.  Forty 
years  is  yet  early  youth,  by  the  slow  old  clock  of  the  golden 
ao’es,  when  the  thread  of  mortal  life  ran  out  to  a  hundred  and 
seventy-five  or  eighty  years.  Abraham  has  nearly  reached  that 
far  period,  and  bis  sun  of  life  is  dipping  downwards  toward  the 
evening  horizon.  He  has  but  one  care  remaining,  — to  settle  his 
son  Isaac  in  life  before  he  is  gathered  to  his  fathers. 

The  scene  in  which  Abraham  discusses  the  subject  with  his 
head  servant  sheds  a  peculiar  light  on  the  domestic  and  family 
relations  of  those  days.  “  And  Abraham  said  unto  his  eldest 
servant  of  his  house,  that  ruled  over  all  that  he  had,  Put,  I  pray 
thee,  thy  hand  under  my  thigh:  and  I  will  make  thee  swear  by 
the  Lord,  the  God  of  heaven,  and  the  God  of  the  earth,  that  thou 
shalt  not  take  a  wife  unto  my  son  of  the  daughters  of  the  Ca- 
naanites,  among  whom  I  dwell :  but  thou  shalt  go  unto  my  coun¬ 
try,  and  to  my  kindred,  and  take  a  wife  unto  my  son  Isaac.  And 
the  servant  said  unto  him,  Peradventure  the  woman  will  not  be 
willing1  to  follow  me  unto  this  land:  must  I  needs  bring  thy  son 
again  unto  the  land  from  whence  thou  earnest  ?  And  Abraham 
said  unto  him,  Beware  that  thou  bring  not  my  son  thither  again. 
The  Lord  God  of  heaven,  which  took  me  from  my  father’s  house, 
and  from  the  land  of  my  kindred,  and  which  spake  unto  me,  and 
sware  unto  me,  saying,  Unto  thy  seed  will  1  give  this  land; 

53 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 

he  shall  send  his  angel  before  thee,  and  thon  shalt  take  a  wife 
unto  my  son  from  thence.  And  if  the  woman  will  not  be  willing 
to  follow  thee,  then  thou  shalt  be  clear  from  this  my  oath  : 
only  bring  not  my  son  thither  again.” 

Here  it  is  remarkable  that  the  servant  is  addressed  as  the  leeral 
guardian  of  the  son.  Abraham  does  not  caution  Isaac  as  to  whom 
he  should  marry,  but  cautions  the  old  servant  of  the  house  con¬ 
cerning  the  woman  to  whom  he  should  marry  Isaac.  It  is  appar¬ 
ently  understood  that,  in  case  of  Abraham’s  death,  the  regency 
in  the  family  falls  into  the  hands  of  this  servant. 

The  picture  of  the  preparations  made  for  this  embassy  denotes 
a  princely  station  and  great  wealth.  “  And  the  servant  took  ten 
camels  of  the  camels  of  his  master,  and  departed ;  for  all  the 
goods  of  his  master  were  in  his  hand ;  and  he  arose,  and  went  to 
Mesopotamia,  unto  the  city  of  Nalior.” 

Now  comes  a  quaint  and  beautiful  picture  of  the  manners  of 
those  pastoral  days.  “And  he  made  his  camels  to  kneel  down 
without  the  city  by  a  well  of  water,  at  the  time  of  the  evening, 
even  the  time  that  women  go  out  to  draw  water.” 

Next,  we  have  a  specimen  of  the  kind  of  prayer  which  obtained 
in  those  simple  times,  when  men  felt  as  near  to  God  as  a  child 
does  to  its  mother.  Kneeling,  uncovered,  in  the  evening  light, 
the  gray  old  serving-man  thus  talks  to  the  invisible  Protector :  — 
“  0  Lord  God  of  my  master  Abraham,  I  pray  thee,  send  me 
good  speed  this  day,  and  show  kindness  unto  my  master  Abra¬ 
ham.  Behold,  I  stand  here  by  the  well  of  water;  and  the 
daughters  of  the  men  of  the  city  come  out  to  draw  water :  and 
let  it  come  to  pass  that  the  damsel  to  whom  I  shall  say,  Let  down 
thy  pitcher,  I  pray  thee,  that  I  may  drink ;  and  she  shall  say, 
Drink,  and  I  will  give  thy  camels  drink  also :  let  the  same  be  she 
that  thou  hast  appointed  for  thy  servant  Isaac  ;  and  thereby  shall 
I  know  that  thou  hast  showed  kindness  unto  my  master.” 

This  is  prayer.  Not  a  formal,  ceremonious  state  address  to  a 
monarch,  but  the  talk  of  the  child  with  his  father,  asking  simply 
and  directly  for  what  is  wanted  here  and  now.  And  the  request 
was  speedily  granted,  for  thus  the  story  goes  on:  “And  it  came 
to  pass,  before  he  had  done  speaking,  that,  behold,  Rebekah 

54 


REBEKAH  THE  BRIBE  OF  THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 


came  out,  who  was  born  to  Bethuel,  son  of  Milcah,  the  wife 
of  Nalior,  Abraham’s  brother.”  It  is  noticeable,  how  strong  is 
the  sensibility  to  womanly  beauty  in  this  narrative.  This  young- 
Rebekah  is  thus  announced :  “  And  the  damsel  was  very  fair  to 
look  upon,  and  a  virgin,  and  she  went  down  to  the  well,  and  filled 
her  pitcher,  and  came  up.”  Drawn  by  the  bright  eyes  and  fair 
face,  the  old  servant  hastens  to  apply  the  test,  doubtless  hoping 
that  this  lovely  creature  is  the  one  appointed  for  his  young  mas¬ 
ter.  “And  the  servant  ran  to  meet  her,  and  said,  Let  me,  I 
pray  thee,  drink  a  little  water  of  thy  pitcher.  And  she  said, 
Drink,  my  lord:  and  she  hastened,  and  let  down  her  pitcher 
upon  her  hand,  and  gave  him  drink.”  She  gave  with  a  will, 
with  a  grace  and  readiness  that  overflowed  the  request;  and 
then  it  is  added :  “  And  when  she  had  done  giving  him  drink, 

she  said,  I  will  draw  water  for  thy  camels  also,  until  they  have 
done  drinking.  And  she  hasted  and  emptied  her  pitcher  into  the 
trough,  and  ran  again  unto  the  well  to  draw  water,  and  drew  for  all 
his  camels.”  Let  us  fancy  ten  camels,  all  on  their  knees  in  a  row, 
at  the  trough,  with  their  long  necks,  and  patient,  careworn  faces, 
while  the  pretty  young  Jewess,  with  cheerful  alacrity,  is  dashing 
down  the  water  from  her  pitcher,  filling  and  emptying  in  quick 
succession,  apparently  making  nothing  of  the  toil ;  the  gray¬ 
haired  old  servant  looking  on  in  devout  recognition  of  the 
answer  to  his  prayer,  for  the  story  says:  “And  the  man  wonder¬ 
ing  at  her,  held  his  peace,  to  wit  [know]  whether  the  Lord  had 
made  his  journey  prosperous  or  not.” 

There  was  wise  penetration  into  life  and  the  essentials  of 
wedded  happiness  in  this  prayer  of  the  old  servant.  What  he 
asked  for  his  young  master  was  not  beauty  or  talent,  but  a  ready 
and  unfailing  outflow  of  sympathy  and  kindness,  lie  sought  not 
merely  for  a  gentle  nature,  a  kind  heart,  but  for  a  heart  so 
rich  in  kindness  that  it  should  run  even  beyond  what  was 
asked,  and  be  ready  to  anticipate  the  request  with  new  devices 
of  helpfulness.  The  lively,  light-hearted  kindness  that  could  not 
be  content  with  waiting  on  the  thirsty  old  man,  but  with  cheerful 
alacrity  took  upon  herself  the  care  of  all  the  ten  camels,  this 
was  a  gift  beyond  that  of  beauty ;  yet  when  it  came  in  the 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  END  HIS  TOE  Y. 

person  of  a  maiden  exceedingly  fair  to  look  upon,  no  marvel 
that  the  old  man  wondered  joyously  at  his  success. 

When  the  camels  had  done  drinking,  he  produced  from  his 
treasury  a  golden  earring  and  bracelets,  with  which  he  adorned 
the  maiden.  “And  he  said  to  her,  Whose  daughter  art  thou  1 
tell  me,  1  pray  thee ;  is  there  room  in  thy  father’s  house  for  us  to 
lodge  in  ?  And  she  said  unto  him,  I  am  the  daughter  of  Betliuel 
the  son  of  Milcah,  which  she  bare  to  Nahor.  She  said,  moreover, 
unto  him,  A  Ve  have  both  straw  and  provender  enough,  and  room 
to  lodge  in.  And  the  man  bowed  down  his  head,  and  worshiped 
the  Lord.  And  he  said,  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  my  master 
Abraham,  who  hath  not  left  destitute  my  master  of  his  mercy 
and  his  truth :  I  being  in  the  way,  the  Lord  led  me  to  the  house 
of  my  master’s  brethren.” 

We  may  imagine  the  gay  delight  with  which  the  pretty  maiden 
ran  to  exhibit  the  gifts  of  jewelry  that  had  thus  unexpectedly 
descended  upon  her.  Laban,  her  brother,  does  not  prove  either 
a  generous  or  hospitable  person  in  the  outcome  of  the  story ;  but 
the  ambassador  of  a  princely  relative,  traveling  with  a  caravan 
of  ten  camels,  and  showering  gold  and  jewels,  makes  his  own 
welcome.  The  narrative  proceeds:  —  “And  it  came  to  pass 
when  he  saw  the  earring,  and  the  bracelets  upon  his  sister’s 
hands,  and  when  he  heard  the  words  of  Rebekah  his  sister, 
saying,  Thus  spake  the  man  unto  me ;  that  he  came  unto  the 
man :  and,  behold,  he  stood  by  the  camels  at  the  well.  And 
he  said,  Come  in,  thou  blessed  of  the  Lord;  wherefore  stand- 
est  thou  without?  for  I  have  prepared  the  house,  and  room 
for  the  camels.  And  the  man  came  into  the  house :  and  he 
ungirded  the  camels,  and  gave  straw  and  provender  for  the 
camels,  and  water  to  wash  his  feet,  and  the  men’s  feet  that 
were  with  him.  And  there  was  set  meat  before  him  to  eat:  but 
he  said,  I  will  not  eat,  till  I  have  told  my  errand.  And  he  said, 
Speak  on.  And  he  said,  I  am  Abraham’s  servant,  and  the  Lord 
hath  blessed  my  master  greatly,  and  he  is  become  great:  and 
he  hath  given  him  flocks,  and  herds,  and  silver,  and  gold,  and 
men-servants,  and  maid-servants,  and  camels,  and  asses.” 

After  this  exordium  he  goes  on  to  tell  the  whole  story  of  his 

56 


REBEKAH  THE  BRIDE  OF  THE  GOLD  EH  AGE. 


oath  to  his  master,  and  the  purport  of  his  journey ;  of  the  prayer 
that  he  had  uttered  at  the  well,  and  of  its  fulfillment  in  a  gen¬ 
erous-minded  and  beautiful  young  maiden ;  and  thus  lie  ends  his 
story :  “  And  I  bowed  down  my  head,  and  worshiped  the  Lord, 
and  blessed  the  Lord  God  of  my  master  Abraham,  which  hath  led 
me  in  the  right  way  to  take  my  master’s  brother’s  daughter  unto 
his  son.  And  now,  if  ye  will  deal  kindly  and  truly  with  my 
master,  tell  me  :  and  if  not,  tell  me  ;  that  I  may  turn  to  the  right 
hand  or  to  the  left.  Then  Laban  and  Bethuel  answered  and 
said,  The  thing  proceedeth  from  the  Lord :  we  cannot  speak  unto 
thee  bad  or  good.  Behold,  Rebekah  is  before  thee ;  take  her, 
and  go,  and  let  her  be  thy  master’s  son’s  Avife,  as  the  Lord  hath 
spoken.  And  it  came  to  pass,  that  when  Abraham’s  servant 
heard  their  words,  he  worshiped  the  Lord,  bowing  himself  to 
the  earth.” 

And  now  comes  a  scene  most  captivating  to  female  curiosity. 
Even  in  patriarchal  times  the  bridegroom,  it  seems,  provided  a 
corbeille  cle  manage  ;  for  we  are  told :  “  And  the  servant  brought 
forth  jewels  of  silver,  and  jewels  of  gold,  and  raiment,  and  gave 
them  to  Rebekah ;  he  gave  also  to  her  brother  and  to  her  mother 
precious  things.”  The  scene  of  examining  jewelry  and  garments 
and  rich  stuffs  in  the  family  party  would  have  made  no  mean 
subject  for  a  painter.  No  wonder  such  a  suitor,  sending  such 
gifts,  found  welcome  entertainment.  So  the  story  goes  on : 
“And  they  did  eat  and  drink,  he  and  the  men  that  were  with 
him,  and  tarried  all  night ;  and  they  rose  up  in  the  morning ; 
and  he  said,  Send  me  away  unto  my  master.  And  her  brother 
and  her  mother  said,  Let  the  damsel  abide  with  us  a  few  days,  at 
the  least  ten,  and  after  that  she  shall  go.  And  he  said  unto 
them,  Hinder  me  not,  seeing  the  Lord  hath  prospered  my  way ; 
send  me  away,  that  I  may  go  to  my  master.  And  they  said,  We 
will  call  the  damsel  and  inquire  at  her  mouth.  And  they  called 
Rebekah,  and  said  unto  her,  Wilt  thou  go  with  this  man  ?  And 
she  said,  I  will  go.  And  they  sent  away  Rebekah  their  sister, 
and  her  nurse,  and  Abraham’s  servant  and  his  men.  And  they 
blessed  Rebekah,  and  said  unto  her,  Thou  art  our  sister ;  be  thou 
the  mother  of  thousands  of  millions,  and  let  thy  seed  possess 


W03IAX  IX  SACKED  HIST  OK  Y. 


the  gate  of  those  wliieli  liate  them.”  The  idea  of  being  a  mother 
of  nations  gives  a  sort  of  dignity  to  the  married  life  of  these 
patriarchal  women,  —  it  was  the  motherly  instinct  made  sublime. 

Thus  far,  this  wooing  seems  to  have  been  conceived  and  con¬ 
ducted  in  that  simple  religious  spirit  recognized  in  the  words  of 
the  old  prayer :  “  Grant  that  all  our  works  may  be  begun,  con¬ 
tinued,  and  ended  in  thee.”  The  Father  of  Nations  has  been  a 
never-failing  presence  in  every  scene. 

The  expectant  bridegroom  seems  to  have  been  a  youth  of 
a  pensive,  dreamy,  meditative  nature.  Brought  up  with  the 
strictest  notions  of  filial  submission,  he  waits  to  receive  his  wife 
dutifully  from  his  father’s  hand.  Yet,  as  the  caravan  nears  the 
encampment,  he  walks  forth  to  meet  them.  “And  Isaac  Avent  out 
to  meditate  in  the  field  at  the  eventide :  and  he  lifted  up  his 
eyes,  and  saw,  and,  behold,  the  camels  ay  ere  coming.  And 
Rebekali  lifted  up  her  eyes,  and  when  she  saAv  Isaac,  she  lighted 
off  the  camel.  For  she  had  said  unto  the  servant,  What  man  is 
this  that  walketh  in  the  field  to  meet  us "?  And  the  seiwant 
had  said,  It  is  my  master :  therefore  she  took  a  veil,  and  covered 
herself.” 

In  the  little  that  is  said  of  Rebekali,  Ave  see  always  that  alert 
readiness,  prompt  to  see  and  do  Avhat.  is  to  be  done  at  the  moment. 
No  dreamer  is  she,  but  a  lively  and  Avide-aAvake  young  woman, 
ayIio  knows  her  own  mind  exactly,  and  has  the  fit  word  and  fit 
action  ready  for  each  short  turn  in  life.  She  was  quick,  cheerful, 
and  energetic  in  hospitality.  She  was  prompt  and  unhesitating 
in  her  resolve ;  and  yet,  at  the  moment  of  meeting,  she  kneAv  the 
value  and  the  propriety  of  the  veil.  She  covered  herself,  that  she 
might  not  unsought  be  won. 

With  a  little  touch  of  pathos,  the  story  ends  :  “  And  Isaac 
brought  her  into  his  mother  Sarah’s  tent,  and  took  Rebekali,  and 
she  became  his  Avife  ;  and  he  loved  her :  and  Isaac  Avas  comforted 
after  his  mother’s  death.”  We  see  here  one  of  those  delicate  and 
tender  natures  that  find  repose  first  in  the  love  of  a  mother,  and, 
when  that  stay  is  withdrawn,  lean  upon  a  beloved  Avife. 

So  ideally  pure,  and  sweet,  and  tenderly  religions  has  been  the 
Avhole  inception  and  carrying  on  and  termination  of  this  wedding, 

58 


BEBEKAH  THE  BRIDE  OF  THE  GOLD  EH  AGE. 


that  Isaac  and  Rebekali  have  been  remembered  in  the  wedding" 
ritual  of  the  catholic  Christian  churches  as  models  of  a  holy 
marriage  according  to  the  Divine  will.  “  Send  thy  blessing  upon 
these  thy  servants,  this  man  and  this  woman,  whom  we  bless  in 
thy  name ;  that  as  Isaac  and  Rebekali  lived  faithfully  together, 
so  these  persons  may  surely  perform  and  keep  the  vow  and  cove¬ 
nant  between  them.” 

In  the  subsequent  history  of  the  family,  the  dramatic  individu¬ 
ality  of  the  characters  is  kept  up  :  Isaac  is  the  gentle,  thoughtful, 
misty  dreamer,  lost  in  sentiment  and  contemplation  ;  and  Rebekali 
the  forward,  cheerful,  self-confident  manager  of  external  things. 
We  can  fancy  it  as  one  of  the  households  where  all  went  as  the 
mother  said.  In  fact,  in  mature  life,  we  see  these  prompt  and 
managing  traits,  leading'  the  matron  to  domestic  artifices  which 
could  only  be  justified  to  herself  by  her  firm  belief  that  the  end 
pursued  was  good  enough  to  sanctify  the  means.  Energetic, 
lively,  self-trustful  young  women  do  sometimes  form  just  such 
managing  and  diplomatic  matrons. 

Isaac,  the  husband,  always  dreamy  and  meditative,  becomes 
old  and  doting;  conceives  an  inordinate  partiality  for  the  turbu¬ 
lent  son  Esau,  whose  skill  in  hunting  supplies  his  table  with  the 
meat  he  loves.  Rebekali  has  heard  the  prophetic  legend,  that 
Jacob,  the  younger  son,  is  the  chosen  one  to  perpetuate  the  sacred 
race ;  and  Jacob,  the  tender,  the  care-taking,  the  domestic,  is  the 
idol  of  her  heart. 

Now,  there  are  some  sorts  of  women  that,  if  convinced  there 
was  such  a  Divine  oracle  or  purpose  in  relation  to  a  favorite  son, 
would  have  rested  upon  it  in  quiet  faith,  and  left  Providence  to 
work  out  its  ends  in  its  own  way  and  time.  Not  so  Rebekali. 
The  same  restless  activity  of  helpfulness  that  led  her  to  offer  water 
to  all  the  camels,  when  asked  to  give  drink  for  the  servant,  now 
led  her  to  come  to  the  assistance  of  Providence.  She  proposes 
to  Jacob  to  make  the  oracle  sure,  and  obtain  the  patriarchal 
blessing  by  stratagem.  When  Jacob  expresses  a  humble  doubt 
whether  such  an  artifice  may  not  defeat  itself  and  bring  on  him 
the  curse  rather  than  the  blessing  ot  his  father,  the  mother 
characteristically  answers :  “  Upon  me  be  the  curse,  my  son  -. 


WOMAN  IX  SACRED  HISTORY. 

only  obey  my  voice.”  Pages  of  description  could  not  set  a  char¬ 
acter  before  us  more  sharply  and  distinctly  than  this  one  incident, 
and  nothing  can  show  more  dramatically  in  whose  hands  was  the 
ruling  power  in  that  family. 

The  managing,  self-reliant  Rebekah,  ready  to  do  her  full 
share  in  every  emergency,  and  to  run  before  every  occasion 
with  her  busy  plannings,  is  not  a  character  of  patriarchal  ages 
merely.  Every  age  lias  repeated  it,  and  our  own  is  no  excep¬ 
tion.  There  are  not  wanting  among  us  cheerful,  self-confident, 
domestic  managers,  who  might  take  a  lesson  from  the  troubles 
that  befell  the  good-hearted,  but  too  busy  and  officious  Rebekah, 
in  consequence  of  the  success  of  her  own  schemes.  The  ac¬ 
count  of  this  belongs  to  our  next  chapter. 

60 


ISAAC  MEDITATING. 


“And  Isaac  went  ont  to  meditate  in  the  field  at  the  eventide  :  and  he  lifted  up  his  eyes, 
and  saw,  and,  behold,  the  camels  were  coming.  And  Rebekah  lifted  up  her  eyes,  and 
when  she  saw  Isaac,  she  lighted  off  the  camel.  For  she  had  said  unto  the  servant,  What 
man  is  this  that  walketh  in  the  field  to  meet  us  ?  And  the  servant  had  said,  It  is  my 
master  :  therefore  she  took  a  vail,  and  covered  herself.  And  the  servant  told  Isaac  all 
things  that  he  had  done.  And  Isaac  brought  her  into  his  mother  Sarah’s  tent,  and  took 
Rebekah,  and  she  became  his  wife  ;  and  he  loved  her  :  and  Isaac  was  comforted  after  his 
mother’s  death.”  —  Gen.  xxiv.  63-67. 


And  down  from  Heaven  sweet  answers  swiftly  glide. 
But  as  he  glanced  around  that  landscape  wide, 

Far  off  a  train  of  camels  meets  his  eye, 

And  as  they  nearer  come  he  can  descry 
A  maiden  vailed,  —  his  unseen,  God-sent  bride. 

Thus  while  to  Heaven  thought  after  thought  was  rising, 
The  fair  Rebekah  step  by  step  drew  nigh, 

With  life’s  chief  joy  the  prayerful  saint  surprising  : 

For  those  who  think  of  Him  God  still  is  thinking, 

With  tender  condescension  from  on  high, 

Some  comfort  ever  to  some  duty  linking. 


He v.  H.  Wilton. 


01 


LEAH  AND  RACHEL. 


Portaei.s,  Pinx, 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


LEAH  AND  RACHEL. 


the  earlier  portions  of  the  Old  Testament  we  have, 
very  curiously,  the  history  of  the  deliberate  formation 
of  an  influential  race,  to  which  was  given  a  most  im¬ 
portant  mission  in  the  world’s  history.  The  principle 
of  selection ,  much  talked  of  now  in  science,  is  the  principle  which 
is  represented  in  the  patriarchal  history  as  operating  under  a  di¬ 
rect  Divine  guidance.*  From  the  calling  of  Abraham,  there  seems 
to  have  been  this  continued  watchfulness  in  selecting  the  party 
through  whom  the  chosen  race  was  to  be  continued.  Every 
marriage  thus  far  is  divinely  appointed  and  guided.  While  the 
Fatherly  providence  and  nurture  is  not  withdrawn  from  the  re¬ 
jected  ones,  still  the  greatest  care  is  exercised  to  separate  from 
them  the  chosen.  The  latter  are  selected  apparently  not  so 
much  for  moral  excellence  in  itself  considered,  as  for  excellence 
in  relation  to  stock.  The  peaceable,  domestic,  prudent,  and  con¬ 
servative  elements  are  uniformly  chosen,  in  preference  to  the 
warlike  and  violent  characteristics  of  the  age. 

The  marriage  of  Isaac  and  Rebekah  was  more  like  the  tvpe 
of  a  Christian  marriage  than  any  other  on  record.  No  other 
wife  shared  a  place  in  his  heart  and  home  ;  and,  even  to  old 
age,  Isaac  knew*  no  other  than  the  bride  of  his  youth.  From 
this  union  sprang  twin  boys ;  between  whom,  as  is  often  the 
case,  there  was  a  remarkable  difference.  The  physical  energy 
and  fire  all  seemed  to  go  to  one,  the  gentler  and  more  quiet 
traits  to  the  other.  Esau  was  the  wild  huntsman,  the  ranger 
of  the  mountains,  delighting  in  force,  —  precisely  adapted  to 
become  the  chief  of  a  predatory  tribe.  Jacob,  the  patient,  the 
prudent,  the  submissive,  was  the  home  child,  the  darling  of  his 
mother.  Now,  with  every  constitutional  excellency  and  virtue  is 
inevitably  connected,  in  our  imperfect  humanity,  the  liability  to 

63 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

a  fault.  The  peace-loving  and  prudent,  averse  to  strife,  are  liable 
to  sins  of  artifice  and  deception,  as  stronger  natures  are  to  those 
of  force  and  violence.  Probably,  in  the  calm  eye  of  Him  who 
sees  things  just  as  they  are,  the  one  kind  of  fault  is  no  worse  than 
the  other.  At  all  events,  the  sacred  narrative  is  a  daguerreo¬ 
type  of  character ;  it  reflects  every  trait  and  every  imperfection 
without  comment.  The  mild  and  dreamy  Isaac,  to  save  his  wife 
from  a  rapacious  king,  undertakes  to  practice  the  same  artifice 
that  his  father  used  before  him,  saying,  “She  is  my  sister”;  and 
the  same  evil  consequence  ensues.  The  lesson  of  artifice  once 
taught  in  the  family,  the  evil  spreads.  Rebekah,  when  Isaac  is 
old  and  doting,  commands  Jacob  to  personate  his  older  brother, 
and  thus  gain  the  patriarchal  blessing,  which  in  those  days  had 
the  force  of  a  last  will  and  testament  in  our  times.  Yet,  through 
all  the  faults  and  errors  of  the  mere  human  actors  runs  the 
thread  of  a  Divine  guidance.  Before  the  birth  of  Jacob  it  was 
predicted  that  he  should  be  the  chosen  head  of  the  forming  nation; 
and  by  his  mother’s  artifice,  and  his  own  participation  in  it,  that 
prediction  is  fulfilled.  Yet  the  natural  punishment  of  the  action 
follows.  Esau  is  alienated,  and  meditates  murder  in  his  heart ; 
and  Jacob,  though  the  mother’s  darling,  is  driven  out  from  his 
home  a  hunted  fugitive,  parted  from  her  for  life.  He  starts  on 
foot  to  find  his  way  to  Padan-Aram,  to  his  father’s  kindred,  there 
to  seek  and  meet  and  woo  the  wife  appointed  for  him. 

It  is  here  that  the  history  of  the  patriarch  Jacob  becomes  im¬ 
mediately  helpful  to  all  men  in  all  ages.  And  its  usefulness  con¬ 
sists  in  just  this,  —  that  Jacob,  at  this  time  in  his  life,  was  no  saint 
or  hero.  He  was  not  a  person  distinguished  either  by  intellect  or 
by  high  moral  attainment,  but  simply  such  a  raw,  unformed  lad  as 
life  is  constantly  casting  adrift  from  the  shelter  of  homes.  He  is 
no  better  and  no  worse  than  the  multitude  of  boys,  partly  good 
and  partly  bad,  who,  for  one  reason  or  another,  are  forced  to  leave 
their  mothers  and  their  fathers ;  to  take  staff  in  hand  and  start 
out  on  the  great  life-journey  alone.  He  had  been  religiously 
brought  up ;  he  knew  that  his  father  and  his  mother  had  a  God, 
—  the  Invisible  God  of  Abraham  and  Isaac;  but  then,  other  gods 
and  lords  many  were  worshiped  in  the  tribes  around  him,  and 

64 


LEAH  AND  RACHEL. 

how  did  he  know,  after  all,  which  was  the  right  one  ?  He  wan¬ 
ders  on  over  the  wide,  lonesome  Syrian  plains,  till  dark  night 
comes  on,  and  he  finds  himself  all  alone,  an  atom  in  the  great 
silent  creation,  —  alone,  as  many  a  sailor-boy  has  found  himself  on 
the  deck  of  his  ship,  or  hunter,  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the  forest. 
The  desolate  lad  gathers  a  heap  of  stones  for  a  pillow  and  lies 
down  to  sleep.  Nothing  could  be  more  sorrowfully  helpless  than 
this  picture ;  the  representative  portrait  of  many  a  mother’s  boy 
to-day,  and  in  all  days.  We  cannot  suppose  that  he  prayed  or 
commended  his  soul  to  God.  We  are  told  distinctly  that  he 
did  not  even  remember  that  God  was  in  that  place.  lie  lies 
down,  helpless  and  forlorn,  on  his  cold  stone  pillow,  and  sinks, 
overcome  with  fatigue,  to  prayerless  slumber.  And  now,  in  his 
dreams,  a  glorious  light  appears ;  a  luminous  path  opens  upward 
to  the  skies,  — angels  are  passing  to  and  fro  upon  it,  and  above,  in 
bright  benignity,  stands  a  visible  form,  and  says:  “  I  am  the  Lord 
God  of  Abraham  thy  father,  and  the  God  of  Isaac :  the  land 
whereon  thou  liest,  to  thee  will  I  give  it,  and  to  thy  seed ;  and 
thy  seed  shall  be  as  the  dust  of  the  earth ;  and  thou  shalt  spread 
abroad  to  the  west,  and  to  the  east,  and  to  the  north,  and  to  the 
south ;  and  in  thee  and  in  thy  seed  shall  all  the  families  of  the 
earth  be  blessed.  And,  behold,  I  am  with  thee,  and  will  keep 
thee  in  all  places  whither  thou  goest,  and  will  bring  thee  again 
unto  this  land;  for  I  will  not  leave  thee,  until  I  have  done  that 
which  I  have  spoken  to  thee  of.  And  Jacob  awaked  out  of  his 
sleep,  and  he  said,  Surely  the  Lord  is  in  this  place ;  and  I  knew 
it'  not.  And  he  was  afraid,  and  said,  How  dreadful  is  this  place ! 
This  is  none  other  but  the  house  of  God,  and  this  is  the  gate  of 
heaven.  And  Jacob  arose  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  took  the 
stone  that  he  had  put  for  his  pillow,  and  set  it  up  for  a  pillar, 
and  poured  oil  upon  the  top  of  it.  And  Jacob  vowed  a  vow,  say¬ 
ing,  If  God  will  be  with  me,  and  will  keep  me  in  this  way  that  I 
go,  and  will  give  me  bread  to  eat,  and  raiment  to  put  on,  so  that 
I  come  again  to  my  father’s  house  in  peace,  then  shall  the  Lord 
be  my  God:  and  this  stone,  which  I  have  set  fora  pillar,  shall  be 
God’s  house :  and  of  all  that  Thou  shalt  give  me  I  will  surely 
give  the  tenth  unto  thee.” 

65 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  IIIST  OB  Y. 


In  one  night  how  much  is  horn  in  that  soul !  The  sentiment 
of  reverence,  awe  of  the  Divine,  —  a  conviction  of  the  reality  of 
God  and  an  invisible  world,  —  and  the  beginning' of  that  great 
experiment  by  which  man  learns  practically  that  God  is  his 
father.  For,  in  the  outset,  every  human  being’s  consciousness 
of  God  must  be  just  of  this  sort.  Have  I  a  Father  in  heaven? 
Does  he  care  for  me  ?  Will  he  help  me  ?  Questions  that  each 
man  can  only  answer  as  Jacob  did,  by  casting  himself  upon  God 
in  a  matter-of-fact,  practical  way  in  the  exigencies  of  this  present 
life.  And  this  history  is  the  more  valuable  because  it  takes 
man  in  his  earlier  stages  of  imperfection.  We  are  apt  to  feel 
that  it  might  be  safe  for  Paul,  or  Isaiah,  or  other  great  saints,  to 
expect  God  to  befriend  them ;  but  here  a  poor,  untaught  shep¬ 
herd  boy,  who  is  not  religious,  avows  that,  up  to  this  time,  he 
has  had  no  sense  of  God;  and  yet  between  him  and  heaven 
there  is  a  pathway,  and  about  him  in  his  loneliness  are  minister¬ 
ing  spirits ;  and  the  God  of  Abraham  and  of  Isaac  is  ready  to 
become  his  friend.  In  an  important  sense,  this  night  dream, 
this  gracious  promise  of  God  to  Jacob,  are  not  merely  for  him, 
but  for  all  erring,  helpless,  suffering  sons  of  men.  In  the  fa¬ 
therly  God  thus  revealed  to  the  patriarch,  we  see  the  first  fruits 
of  the  promise  that  through  him  all  nations  should  be  blessed. 

The  next  step  of  the  drama  shows  us  a  scene  of  sylvan  sim¬ 
plicity.  About  the  old  well  in  Haran,  shepherds  are  waiting 
with  their  flocks,  when  the  stripling  approaches:  “And  Jacob 
said  unto  them,  My  brethren,  whence  be  ye  ?  And  they  said,  Of 
Haran  are  we.  And  he  said  unto  them,  Know  ye  Laban  the  son 
of  Xahor?  And  they  said,  We  know  him.  And  he  said  unto 
them,  Is  he  well  ?  And  they  said,  He  is  well :  and,  behold, 
Rachel  his  daughter  cometli  with  the  sheep.  And  he  said,  Lo, 
it  is  yet  high  day,  neither  is  it  time  that  the  cattle  should  be 
gathered  together.  Water  ye  the  sheep,  and  go  and  feed  them. 
And  they  said,  We  cannot,  until  all  the  flocks  be  gathered  to¬ 
gether,  and  till  they  roll  the  stone  from  the  well’s  mouth;  then 
we  water  the  sheep.  And  while  he  yet  spake  with  them  Rachel 
came  with  her  father’s  sheep ;  for  she  kept  them.  And  it  came 

to  pass,  when  Jacob  saw  Rachel,  the  daughter  of  Laban,  his 

66 


LEAH  AND  RACHEL. 

mother’s  brother,  and  the  sheep  of  Laban,  his  mother’s  brother, 
that  Jacob  went  near,  and  rolled  the  stone  from  the  well’s  mouth, 
and  watered  the  flock  of  Laban,  his  mother’s  brother.  And 
Jacob  kissed  Rachel,  and  lifted  up  his  voice,  and  wept;  and 
Jacob  told  Rachel  that  he  was  her  father’s  brother,  and  that 
he  was  Rebekah’s  son :  and  she  ran  and  told  her  father.  And  it 
came  to  pass,  when  Laban  heard  the  tidings  of  Jacob,  his  sister’s 
son,  that  he  ran  to  meet  him,  and  embraced  him,  and  kissed 
him,  and  brought  him  to  his  house.” 

In  the  story  of  Isaac,  we  have  the  bridegroom  who  is  simply 
the  submissive  recipient  of  a  wife  at  his  father’s  hands;  in  that 
of  Jacob,  we  have  the  story  of  love  at  first  sight.  The  wanderer, 
exiled  from  home,  gives  up  his  heart  at  once  to  the  keeping  of 
his  beautiful  shepherdess  cousin,  and  so,  when  the  terms  of 
service  are  fixed  with  the  uncle,  the  narrative  says :  “  And 
Laban  had  two  daughters;  the  name  of  the  elder  was  Leah,  and 
the  name  of  the  younger  was  Rachel.  Leah  was  tender-eyed ; 
but  Rachel  was  beautiful  and  well-favored.  And  Jacob  loved 
Rachel,  and  said,  I  will  serve  thee  seven  years  for  Rachel,  thy 
younger  daughter.  And  Jacob  served  seven  years  for  Rachel, 
and  they  seemed  unto  him  but  a  few  days,  for  the  love  he  had 
to  her.” 

But  when  the  wedding  comes,  in  the  darkness  and  secrecy  of 
the  night  a  false  bride  is  imposed  on  the  lover.  And  Jacob 
awoke,  and  behold  it  was  Leah.  Not  the  last  man  was  he  who 
has  awakened,  after  the  bridal,  to  find  his  wife  was  not  the 
woman  he  had  taken  her  to  be.  But  the  beloved  one  is  given 
as  a  second  choice,  and  seven  years  more  of  service  are  imposed 
as  her  price. 

The  characteristics  of  these  two  sisters,  Leah  and  Rachel,  are 
less  vividly  given  than  those  of  any  of  the  patriarchal  women. 
Sarah,  Hagar,  and  Rebekah  are  all  sharply  defined  characters, 
in  and  of  themselves  ;  but  of  Leah  and  Rachel  almost  all  that  can 
be  said  is  that  they  were  Jacob’s  wives,  and  mothers  of  the 
twelve  tribes  of  Israel. 

The  character  of  their  father  Laban  was  narrow,  shrewd, 
and  hard,  devoid  of  any  generous  or  interesting  trait,  and  the 

67 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

daughters  appear  to  have  grown  up  under  a  narrowing  and  re¬ 
pressing  influence.  What  we  learn  of  them  in  the  story  shows 
the  envies,  the  jealousies,  the  bickerings  and  heart-burnings  of 
poorly  developed  natures.  Leah,  the  less  beloved  one,  exults  over 
her  handsomer  and  more  favored  sister  because  she  has  been 
made  a  fruitful  mother,  while  to  Rachel  the  gift  of  children  is 
denied.  Rachel  murmurs  and  pines,  and  says  to  her  husband, 
“  Give  me  children,  or  I  die.”  The  desire  for  offspring  in  those 
days  seemed  to  be  an  agony.  To  be  childless,  was  disgrace  and 
misery  unspeakable.  At  last,  however,  Rachel  becomes  a  mother 
and  gives  birth  to  Joseph,  the  best-beloved  of  his  father.  The 
narrative  somehow  suggests  that  charm  of  personal  beauty  and 
manner  which  makes  Rachel  the  beloved  one,  and  her  child 
dearer  than  all  the  rest.  How  many  such  women  there  are, 
pretty  and  charming,  and  holding  men’s  hearts  like  a  fortress,  of 
whom  a  biographer  could  say  nothing  only  that  they  were  much 
beloved ! 

When  Jacob  flees  from  Laban  with  his  family,  we  find  Rachel 
secretly  taking  away  the  images  which  her  father  had  kept  as 
household  gods.  The  art  by  which  she  takes  them,  the  effront¬ 
ery  with  which  she  denies  the  possession  of  them,  when  her  father 
comes  to  search  for  them,  shows  that  she  had  little  moral  eleva¬ 
tion.  The  belief  in  the  God  of  her  husband  probably  was  mixed 
up  confusedly  in  her  childish  mind  with  the  gods  of  her  father. 
Not  unffequently  in  those  dim  ages,  people  seemed  to  alternate 
from  one  to  the  other,  as  occasions  varied.  Yet  she  seems  to  have 
held  her  husband’s  affections  to  the  last ;  and  when,  in  giving  birth 
to  her  last  son,  she  died,  this  son  became  the  darling  of  his  father’s 
old  age.  The  sacred  poet  has  made  the  name  of  this  beloved 
wife  a  proverb,  to  express  the  strength  of  the  motherly  instinct, 
and  “  Rachel  weeping  for  her  children  ”  is  a  line  that  immortal¬ 
izes  her  name  to  all  time. 

Whatever  be  the  faults  of  these  patriarchal  women,  it  must  be 
confessed  that  the  ardent  desire  of  motherhood  which  inspired 
them  is  far  nobler  than  the  selfish,  unwomanly  sjoirit  of  modern 
times,  which  regards  children  only  as  an  encumbrance  and  a 

burden.  The  motherly  yearning  and  motherly  spirit  give  a 

68 


LEAH  AND  RACHEL. 


certain  dignity  to  these  women  of  primitive  ages,  which  atones 
for  many  faults  of  imperfect  development. 

Twenty-one  years  elapse,  and  Jacob,  a  man  of  substance,  father 
of  a  family  of  twelve  children,  with  flocks  and  herds  to  form  a 
numerous  caravan,  leaves  the  service  of  his  hard  master  to  go 
back  to  his  father.  The  story  shows  the  same  traits  in  the  man 
as  in  the  lad.  He  is  the  gentle,  affectionate,  prudent,  kindly, 
care-taking  family-man,  faithful  in  duty,  and  evading  oppression 
by  quiet  skill  rather  than  meeting  it  with  active  opposition.  He 
has  become  rich,  in  spite  of  every  effort  of  an  aggressive  master 
to  prevent  it. 

When  leaving  Laban’s  service,  he  thus  appeals  to  him  :  “  These 
twenty  years  have  I  been  with  thee :  thy  ewes  and  thy  she-goats 
have  not  cast  their  young,  and  the  rams  of  thy  flock  have  I  not 
eaten.  That  which  was  torn  of  beasts  I  brought  not  unto  thee ; 
I  bare  the  loss  of  it.  Thus  was  I :  in  the  day  the  drought  con¬ 
sumed  me,  and  the  frost  by  night,  and  my  sleep  departed  from 
mine  eyes.  Thus  have  I  been  twenty  years  in  thy  house.  1 
served  thee  fourteen  years  for  thy  two  daughters,  and  six  years 
for  thy  cattle  ;  and  thou  hast  changed  my  wages  ten  times.  Ex¬ 
cept  the  God  of  my  father,  the  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  fear  of 
Isaac,  had  been  with  me,  surely  thou  hadst  sent  me  away  now 
empty.  God  hath  seen  my  affliction  and  the  labor  of  my  hands, 
and  rebuked  thee  yesternight.” 

To  the  last  of  the  history  of  Jacob,  we  see  the  same  man, 
—  careful,  patient,  faithful,  somewhat  despondent,  wrapped  up  in 
family  ties  and  cares,  and  needing  at  every  step  to  lean  on  a 
superior  power.  And  the  Father  on  whom  he  seeks  to  lean  is 
never  wanting  to  him,  as  he  will  never  be  to  any  of  us,  however 
weak,  or  faulty,  or  blind.  As  the  caravan  nears  home,  news 
is  brought  that  Esau,  with  an  army  of  horsemen,  is  gallop¬ 
ing  to  meet  him.  Then  says  the  record:  “Jacob  was  greatly 
afraid  and  distressed :  and  Jacob  said,  0  God  of  my  father 
Abraham,  the  God  of  my  father  Isaac,  the  Lord  which  saidst 
unto  me,  Return  unto  thy  country  and  to  thy  kindred,  and 
I  will  deal  well  with  thee :  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  least  of 
all  the  mercies  and  of  all  the  truth  which  thou  hast  showed 


69 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 


unto  thy  servant:  for  with  my  staff  I  passed  over  this  Jor¬ 
dan  ;  and  now  I  am  become  two  bands.  Deliver  me,  I  pray 
thee,  from  the  hand  of  my  brother,  from  the  hand  of  Esau ;  for 
I  fear  him,  lest  he  will  come  and  smite  me,  and  the  mother  with 
the  children.  And  thou  saidst,  I  will  surely  do  thee  good,  and 
make  thy  seed  as  the  sand  of  the  sea,  which  cannot  be  numbered 
for  multitude.”  The  prayer  is  not  in  vain.  That  night  a  mys¬ 
terious  stranger  meets  Jacob  in  the  twilight  shadows  of  morning. 
He  seeks  to  detain  him ;  but,  as  afterwards,  when  the  disciples 
met  an  unknown  Friend  on  the  way  to  Emmaus,  he  made  as 
though  he  would  go  farther.  So  now  this  stranger  struggles  in 
the  embrace  of  the  patriarch.  Who,  then,  is  this  ?  —  is  it  the 
Divine  One?  The  thought  thrills  through  the  soul  as  Jacob 
strives  to  detain  him.  There  is  something  wildly  poetic  in  the 
legend.  “And  he  said,  Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh.  And 
he  said,  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me.  And  he  said 
unto  him,  What  is  thy  name?  And  he  said,  Jacob.  And  he 
said,  Thy  name  shall  be  called  no  more  Jacob,  but  Israel :  for  as 
a  prince  hast  thou  power  with  God  and  with  men,  and  hast  pre¬ 
vailed.  And  Jacob  asked  him :  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  thy  name. 
And  he  said,  Wherefore  dost  thou  ask  after  my  name  ?  And  he 
blessed  him  there.  And  Jacob  called  the  name  of  the  place 
Peniel,  for  he  said,  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face,  and  my  life  is 
preserved.”  God’s  love  to  man,  the  power  of  man’s  weakness 
and  sorrow  over  the  Father-heart,  were  never  more  beautifully 
shown  than  in  this  sacred  idyl.  The  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob ;  the  God  of  the  weak,  the  sinful,  the  despondent, 
the  defenceless  ;  the  helper  of  the  helpless,  —  He  is  the  God 
of  this  sacred  story ;  and  so  long  as  man  is  erring,  and  con¬ 
sciously  frail,  so  long  as  he  needs  an  ever-present  and  ever- 
loving  Friend  and  Helper,  so  long  will  this  story  of  Jacob  be 
dear  to  the  human  heart. 


70 


JACOB’S  DREAM. 


sun  was  sinking  on  the  mountain  zone 
That  guards  thy  vales  of  beauty,  Palestine ! 
nd  lovely  from  the  desert  rose  the  moon, 

Yet  lingering  on  the  horizon’s  purple  line, 

Like  a  pure  spirit  o’er  its  earthly  shrine. 

Up  Bethel’s  rocky  height  abrupt  and  bare 
A  pilgrim  toiled,  and  oft  on  day’s  decline 

Looked  pale,  then  paused  for  eve’s  delicious  air ; 

The  summit  gained,  lie  knelt,  and  breathed  his  evening  prayer. 


He  spread  his  cloak,  and  slumbered  ;  darkness  fell 
Upon  the  twilight  hills  ;  a  sudden  sound 
Of  silver  trumpets  o’er  him  seemed  to  swell, 
Clouds  heavy  with  the  tempest  gathered  round ; 
Yet  was  the  whirlwind  in  its  cavern  bound  ; 

Still  deeper  rolled  the  darkness  from  on  high, 
Gigantic  volume  upon  volume  wound  ;  — 

Above,  a  pillar  shooting  to  the  sky ; 

Below,  a  mighty  sea  that  spread  incessantly. 


Yoices  are  heard,  a  choir  of  golden  strings, 

Low  winds,  whose  breath  is  loaded  with  the  rose : 
Then  chariot-wheels,  the  nearer  rush  of  wings  ; 

Bale  lightning  round  the  dark  pavilion  glows. 

It  thunders ;  the  resplendent  gates  unclose  ; 

Far  as  the  eye  can  glance,  on  height  o’er  height 
Rise  fiery  waving  wings,  and  star-crowned  brows, 
Millions  on  millions,  brighter  and  more  bright, 

Till  all  is  lost  in  one  supreme,  unmingled  light. 

71 


WOMAN  IN  SAGBED  HIS  TOBY. 

But  two  beside  the  sleeping  pilgrim  stand, 

Like  cherub  kings,  with  lifted,  mighty  plume, 

Fixed,  sun-bright  eyes,  and  looks  of  high  command  : 

They  tell  the  Patriarch  of  his  glorious  doom  ; 

Father  of  countless  myriads  that  shall  come, 

Sweeping  the  land  like  billows  of  the  sea, 

Bright  as  the  stars  of  heaven  from  twilight's  gloom, 

Till  He  is  given  whom  angels  long  to  see, 

And  Israel’s  splendid  line  is  crowned  with  Deity. 

Rev.  George  Croly. 


JACOB'S  PILLOW. 


HE  bed  was  earth,  the  raised  pillow  stones, 
Whereon  poor  Jacob  rests  his  head,  his  bones ; 
Heaven  was  his  canopy ;  the  shades  of  night 


Were  his  drawn  curtains,  to  exclude  the  light. 


Poor  state  for  Israel’s  heir !  it  seems  to  me 
His  cattle  fouud  as  soft  a  bed  as  he : 

Yet  God  appeared  there,  his  joy,  his  crown  ; 
God  is  not  always  seen  in  beds  of  down. 


0,  if  that  God  shall  please  to  make  my  bed, 

I  care  not  where  I  rest  my  bones,  my  head ; 

With  Him,  my  wants  can  never  prove  extreme  ; 

With  Jacob’s  pillow  give  me  Jacob’s  dream. 

Philip  Quarles. 


DIRGE  OF  RACHEL. 


(Gen.  xxxv.  19.) 

ND  Rachel  lies  in  Ephrath’s  land, 

Beneath  her  lonely  oak  of  weeping  ; 

With  mouldering  heart,  and  withering  hand, 
The  sleep  of  death  forever  sleeping. 


The  Spring  comes  smiling  down  the  vale, 

The  lilies  and  the  roses  bringing ; 

But  Rachel  never  more  shall  hail 

The  flowers  that  in  the  world  are  springing. 


The  Summer  gives  his  radiant  day, 

And  Jewish  dames  the  dance  are  treading  ; 
But  Rachel,  on  her  couch  of  clay, 

Sleeps  all  unheeded  and  unheeding. 


The  Autumn’s  ripening  sunbeam  shines, 

And  reapers  to  the  field  are  calling ; 

But  Rachel’s  voice  no  longer  joins 
The  choral  song  at  twilight’s  falling. 

The  Winter  sends  his  drenching  shower, 

And  sweeps  his  howling  blast  around  her ; 
But  earthly  storms  possess  no  power 

To  break  the  slumber  that  hath  bound  her. 


Tims  round  and  round  the  Seasons  go, 

But  joy  or  grief  no  more  betide  her ; 

For  Rachel’s  bosom  could  not  know, 

Though  friends  were  housed  in  death  beside  her. 
73 


WOMAN  IX  SACKED  HIS  TORY. 


Yet  Time  shall  come,  as  prophets  say, 

Whose  dreams  with  glorious  things  are  blended, 
When  Seasons,  on  their  changeful  way, 

Shall  wend  not  as  they  long  have  wended. 


Yes,  Time  shall  come,  when  flowers  that  bloom 
Shall  meet  no  storm  their  bloom  to  wither ; 

When  friends,  rejoicing  from  the  tomb, 

Have  gone  to  heavenly  climes  together. 

William  Knox. 


74 


i 


MIRIAM  AND  MOSES. 


Dl. LAROCHE,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith 


MIRIAM,  SISTER  OF  MOSES. 


T  lias  been  remarked  by  Montalembert  that  almost  all 
the  great  leading  men  in  history  have  been  intimately 
associated  with  superior  women.  If  we  look  on  Moses 
in  a  merely  human  light,  and  judge  him  by  what  he 
accomplished,  as  we  do  other  historic  characters,  he  is  in  certain 
respects  the  greatest  man  of  antiquity.  The  works  of  the  legis¬ 
lators,  kings,  and  conquerors  of  ancient  history  were  perish¬ 
able.  Their  cities  have  crumbled,  their  governments  and  com¬ 
monwealths  have  dissolved  as  waves  of  the  sea,  Moses  alone 
founded  a  nation  that  still  lives  with  an  imperishable  vitality, 
—  a  people  whose  religious  literature  still  expresses  the  highest 
aspirations  of  the  most  cultivated  nations  of  the  earth. 

His  advent,  therefore,  forms  an  era  in  the  history  of  humanity, 
and  the  very  opening  of  his  career  presents  us  with  pictures 
of  imposing  and  venerable  female  characters.  The  mother  of 
Moses  is  mentioned,  in  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  as  one  of 
those  worthies  of  ancient  time,  who  triumphed  over  things  seen 
by  the  power  of  a  sublime  faith  in  the  invisible  God  and  his 
promises.  The  very  name  of  the  mother  (Exodus  vi.  20),  Joclie- 
bed,  —  “the  glory  of  Jehovah,”  —  shows  that  a  deep  spirit  of 
religious  enthusiasm  and  trust  was  the  prevailing  impulse  in  the 
family.  She  was  of  that  moral  organization  whence,  through 
the  laws  of  descent,  might  spring  the  prophet  and  prophetess. 
By  faith  she  refused  to  obey  the  cruel  order  of  the  king,  and 
for  three  months  hid  the  beautiful  child. 

And  here  comes  in  the  image  of  the  first,  and  one  of  the  most 
revered,  of  the  race  of  Hebrew  prophetesses,  Miriam,  the  elder 
sister  of  Moses.  According  to  the  Rabbinic  tradition,  the  gift 
of  prophecy  descended  upon  her  even  in  childhood.  1  he  story 
is  that  Miriam’s  mother,  Jochebed,  was  one  ot  the  midwives  to 


WOMAN  IH  SACKED  HISTORY. 


whom  Pharaoh  gave  the  command  to  destroy  the  children,  and 
that  when  the  child  Miriam  heard  it,  being  then  only  five  years 
old,  her  face  flushed  scarlet,  and  she  said  in  anger:  “Woe  to  this 
man !  God  will  punish  him  for  his  evil  deeds.”  After  this  the 
tradition  says  that  when  the  decree  went  forth  for  the  destruction 
of  every  male  child,  Amram  separated  himself  from  his  wife 
Jochebed,  lest  he  should  bring  on  her  the  anguish  of  fruitless 
motherhood.  After  three  years,  the  spirit  of  prophecy  came  on 
Miriam  as  she  sat  in  the  house,  and  she  cried  out  suddenly: 
“  My  parents  shall  have  another  son,  who  shall  deliver  Israel  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  Egyptians.”  The  angel  Gabriel  guided  Am¬ 
ram  back  to  find  his  wife,  whom  he  found  blooming  in  all  the 
beauty  of  youth,  though  more  than  a  hundred  years  old.  When 
she  found  herself  with  child,  she  feared  that  it  might  prove  a 
boy,  to  be  cruelly  slain.  Then  the  Eternal  One  spake  in  a 
dream  to  the  father,  bidding  him  be  of  good  cheer,  for  he  would 
protect  the  child,  and  all  nations  should  hold  him  in  honor. 

The  tradition  goes  on  to  say  that  the  boy  was  born  without 
pain,  and  that  when  he  was  born  the  whole  house  was  filled  with 
a  light  as  of  bright  sunshine.  The  mother’s  anxiety  was  in¬ 
creased  when  she  saw  the  beauty  of  the  child,  who  was  lovely 
as  an  angel  of  God.  The  parents  called  him  Tobias,  “  God  is 
good,”  to  express  their  thankfulness,  and  Amram  kissed  Miriam 
on  the  brow  and  said:  “Now  know  I  that  thy  prophecy  is  come 
true.” 

In  contrast  to  this  ornate  narrative  is  the  grave  and  chaste  sim¬ 
plicity  of  the  Scripture  story.  It  is  all  comprised  in  two  or  three 
verses  of  the  second  chapter  of  Exodus.  “  And  there  went  a  man 
of  the  house  of  Levi,  and  took  to  wife  a  daughter  of  Levi.  And 
the  woman  conceived,  and  bare  a  son :  and  when  she  saw  him 
that  he  was  a  goodly  child  she  hid  him  three  months.  And  when 
she  could  no  longer  hide  him,  she  took  for  him  an  ark  of  bul¬ 
rushes,  and  daubed  it  with  slime  and  with  pitch,  and  put  the 
child  therein  and  laid  it  in  the  flags  by  the  river’s  brink.  And 
his  sister  stood  afar  off  to  see  what  would  be  done  to  him.  And 
the  daughter  of  Pharaoh  came  down  to  wash  herself  at  the  river ; 
and  her  maidens  walked  along  the  river’s  side :  and  when  she 

78 


MIRIAM,  SISTER  OF  MOSES. 


saw  the  ark  among  the  flags,  she  sent  her  maid  to  fetch  it.  And 
when  she  had  opened  it,  she  saw  the  child :  and  behold,  the  babe 
wept.  And  she  had  compassion  on  him  and  said :  This  is  one  of 
the  Hebrew  children.  Then  said  his  sister  to  Pharaoh’s  daughter. 
Shall  I  go  and  call  to  thee  a  nurse  of  the  Hebrew  women,  that 
she  may  nurse  the  child  for  thee  ?  And  Pharaoh’s  daughter  said 
unto  her,  Go.  And  the  maid  went  and  called  the  child’s  mother. 
And  Pharaoh’s  daughter  said,  Take  this  child  away,  and  nurse  it 
for  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  thy  wages ;  and  the  woman  took  the 
child  and  nursed  it.  And  the  child  grew,  and  she  brought  him 
unto  Pharaoh’s  daughter,  and  she  called  his  name  Moses :  and 
she  said,  Because  I  drew  him  out  of  the  water.”' 

To  this,  we  may  add  the  account  which  St.  Stephen  gives  when 
standing  before  the  Jewish  council.  “  In  which  time  Moses  was 
born,  who  was  exceeding  fair,*  and  nourished  up  in  his  father’s 
house  three  months.  And  when  he  was  cast  out,  Pharaoh’s 
daughter  took  him  up  and  nourished  him  for  her  own  son.  And 
Moses  was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians,  and  was 
mighty  in  words  and  deeds.” 

Such  are  the  extremely  brief  notices  of  a  great  event  and  of  a 
group  of  characters  whose  influence  on  mankind  every  one  of  us 
feels  to-day.  For,  the  Jewish  nation,  in  being  chosen  of  God  to 
be  a  sacerdotal  race,  was  to  pass  through  a  history  which  should 
embody  struggles,  oppressions,  agonies,  victories,  and  deliver¬ 
ances,  such  as  should  represent  to  all  time  the  sorrows  and  joys, 
the  trials  and  hopes,  of  humanity.  To  this  day,  the  events  of 
Jewish  history  so  well  express  universal  experiences,  that  its  lit¬ 
erature  in  all  languages,  and  under  all  difference  of  climate  and 
custom,  has  an  imperishable  hold  on  the  human  heart.  It  has 
been  well  said  that  nations  struggling  for  liberty  against  power¬ 
ful  oppressors  flee  as  instinctively  to  the  Old  Testament  as  they 
do  to  mountain  ranges.  The  American  slave  universally  called 
his  bondage  Egypt,  and  read  the  history  of  the  ten  plagues 
and  the  crossing  of  the  Red  Sea  as  parts  of  his  own  experience. 
In  the  dark  days  of  slavery,  the  history  of  Moses  was  sung  at 


*  The  marginal  translation  reads  “fair  to  God. 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 


night,  and  by  stealth,  on  plantations,  with  solemn  rhythmic  move¬ 
ments,  reminding  one  of  old  Egyptian  times.  It  was  the  Mar¬ 
seillaise  of  a  rude  people,  forbidden  by  the  master,  and  all  the 
dearer  to  the  slave. 

We  must  take  the  full  force  of  the  anguish,  the  ignominy, 
the  oppression  of  slavery  acting  on  noble  and  sensitive  natures, 
elevated  by  faith  in  a  high  national  destiny,  and  looking  with 
earnestness  and  prayer  for  its  evolution,  in  order  to  get  a  full 
idea  of  the  character  of  Miriam.  Such  periods  produce  children 
with  that  highly  exalted  organization  which  is  predisposed  to  re¬ 
ceive  the  prophetic  impulse.  The  Rabbinic  traditions  with  regard 
to  Miriam,  which  we  have  added,  are  detailed  at  length  by  Jose¬ 
phus  in  his  history,  and  show  how  strong  is  the  impression  which 
the  personality  of  this  woman  made  on  those  of  her  time,  in  con¬ 
nection  with  the  life  of  their  great  lawgiver. 

The  Bible  account  of  the  birth  and  preservation  of  Moses  has 
the  usual  quality  of  Scripture  narratives ;  it  is  very  brief  and 
very  stimulating  to  the  imagination.  Who  of  us  has  not  seen 
in  childhood  the  old  Nile  with  its  reeds  and  rushes,  its  back¬ 
ground  of  temples  and  pyramids?  We  have  shared  the  tremors 
of  the  mother  and  sister  while  the  little  one  was  launched  in  the 
frail  ark.  Probably  some  rejDort  of  the  kindness  of  the  Princess 
had  inspired  a  trembling  hope.  The  mother  dares  not  stay  to 
guard  her  treasure,  lest  she  draw  cruel  eyes  upon  it ;  but  the  little 
Miriam,  as  a  child  playing  among  the  tall  reeds,  can  remain  on 
the  watch  without  attracting  attention.  In  the  scene  where  the 
helpless  stranger  is  discovered  by  the  Princess,  we  have,  in  the 
movements  of  the  sister,  all  the  characteristics,  in  miniature,  of 
the  future  leader  of  Israel.  Prompt,  fearless,  with  an  instanta¬ 
neous  instinct  as  to  the  right  thing  to  be  done  at  the  critical 
moment,  we  can  see  the  little  Hebrew  maid  press  forward  amid 
the  throng  surrounding  the  alarmed  and  crying  child.  The 
tradition  is  that  an  Egyptian  woman,  at  the  command  of  the 
Princess,  tried  to  quiet  him  at  her  breast,  and  that  the  young 
prophet  indignantly  rejected  the  attempt,  —  a  statement  which 
we  who  know  babies,  whether  prophetic  or  otherwise,  may  deem 

highly  probable.  Then  spoke  up  the  little  Miriam :  u  Shall  I  go 

80 


MIRIAM,  SISTER  OF  MOSES. 


and  call  tliee  a  nurse  of  the  Hebrew  women,  that  she  may  nurse 
the  child  tor  thee  ?  This  was  a  bold  proposal,  but  it  succeeded. 
Perhaps  the  small  speaker  had  some  of  the  wonderful  beauty  of 
her  infant  brother  to  set  oft  her  words:  at  all  events,  the  Princess 
seems  at  once  to  have  trusted  her  with  the  commission.  We  may 
readily  believe  the  little  feet  had  not  far  to  go.  The  child  comes 
back  to  his  mother’s  bosom  as  a  royal  ward. 

We  see  here  in  the  child  Miriam  great  self-poise  and  self-confi¬ 
dence.  She  is  not  afraid  of  royalty,  and,  though  of  an  enslaved 
and  despised  race,  is  ready  to  make  suggestions  to  a  queen. 
These  are  the  traits  of  a  natural  leader,  and  we  shall  see  them 
reappearing  later  in  the  history  of  Miriam.  It  was  customary 
among  the  Oriental  races  to  prolong  the  period  of  nursing  two 
or  three  years,  and  Moses  was  thus  in  the  care  of  his  mother 
and  elder  sister  for  a  long  time. 

Josephus  gives  the  tradition  current  among  the  Jews,  that  the 
child  was  a  wonderfully  attractive  one,  —  so  beautiful,  that  every 
one  who  beheld  him  turned  to  look  at  him.  The  mother  and 
sister  looked  upon  him  as  the  visible  pledge  of  God’s  mercv  to 
their  suffering  people,  as  well  as  the  visible  answer  to  prayer. 
The  God  of  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  whose  hand  are 
all  hearts,  had  made  a  refuge  for  the  young  Deliverer  in  the 
very  family  of  the  destroying  tyrant  ! 

The  intercourse  thus  established  between  the  court  of  Pharaoh 
and  these  two  women  must  have  materially  advanced  their  posi¬ 
tion.  We  see  in  the  Princess  indications  of  a  gracious  and  affable 
nature,  and  in  Miriam  a  quick  readiness  to  turn  every  favorable 
indication  to  good  account.  It  is,  therefore,  quite  probable  that 
Miriam  may  have  shared  the  liberal  patronage  of  the  Princess. 
Evidently  she  continued  to  influence  the  mind  of  her  brother 
after  he  had  gone  into  the  family  of  Pharaoh,  since  we  see  her 
publicly  associated  with  him  at  the  great  period  of  the  national 
deliverance. 

In  the  history  of  Moses,  and  in  his  laws  and  institutes,  we  see 
a  peculiar  and  almost  feminine  tenderness  and  consideration  toi 
whatever  is  helpless  and  defenceless.  Perhaps  the  history  ot  Ips 
own  life,  —  the  story  of  the  forlorn  helplessness  ot  his  own  cradle, 

81 


WOMAN  IN  S ACHED  HIST  OUT. 


and  the  anguish  of  his  mother  and  sister,  — operating  on  a  large 
and  generous  nature,  produced  this  result.  For  example,  .among 
the  laws  of  the  great  lawgiver,  we  find  one  which  forbids  the 
caging  of  a  free  bird  (Dent.  xxii.  6,  7)  ;  thus  it  was  allowed  to 
take  the  young  who  might  easily  be  reconciled  to  captivity,  but 
forbidden  to  take  those  accustomed  to  freedom.  Whoever  lias 
seen  the  miserable  struggles  of  a  free  bird  brought  suddenly 
into  captivity,  can  appreciate  the  compassionateness  of  the  man 
who  made  such  a  law  for  a  great  people.  In  the  same  spirit 
another  law  forbids  the  muzzling  of  the  ox  when  he  treads  the 
grain,  and  commands  every  man  to  stop  and  help  an  overbur¬ 
dened  ass  that  falls  beneath  his  load ;  and  it  particularly  adds, 
that  the  ass  of  an  enemy  shall  be  helped,  no  matter  how  great 
the  unwillingness. 

In  fact,  the  strongest  impulse  in  the  character  of  Moses  appears 
to  have  been  that  of  protective  justice,  with  regard  to  every  help¬ 
less  and  down-trodden  class.  The  laws  of  Moses,  if  carefully 
examined,  are  a  phenomenon,  —  an  exception  to  the  laws  of  either 
ancient  or  modern  nations  in  the  care  they  exercised  over  women, 
widows,  orphans,  paupers,  foreigners,  servants,  and  dumb  animals. 
Of  all  the  so-called  Christian  nations  there  is  none  but  could  ad¬ 
vantageously  take  a  lesson  in  legislation  from  them.  There  is  a 
plaintive,  pathetic  tone  of  compassion  in  their  very  language,  which 
seems  to  have  been  learned  only  of  superhuman  tenderness.  Not 
the  gentlest  words  of  J esus  are  more  compassionate  in  their  spirit 
than  many  of  these  laws  of  Moses.  Some  of  them  sound  more  like 
the  pleadings  of  a  mother  than  the  voice  of  legal  statutes.  For 
example :  “If  thou  lend  money  to  any  that  is  poor  by  thee,  thou 
shalt  not  lay  upon  him  usury.  If  thou  at  all  take  thy  neighbor’s 
garment  to  pledge,  thou  shalt  deliver  it  unto  him  by  that  the  sun 
goeth  down,  for  that  is  his  covering,  it  is  his  raiment  for  his 
skin  ;  wherein  shall  lie  sleep  %  and  it  shall  come  to  pass  that 
when  lie  crieth  unto  me  I  will  hear,  for  I  am  gracious.”  “  Thou 
shalt  not  oppress  a  hired  servant  that  is  poor  and  needy,  whether 
lie  be  of  thine  own  brethren  or  of  strangers  that  are  within  thy 
gates.  At  his  day  shalt  thou  give  him  his  wages,  neither  shall 

the  sun  go  down  upon  it,  for  lie  is  poor  and  setteth  his  heart  upon 

82 


MIHI AM, ,  SIS TEH  OF  MOSES. 


it,  lest  he  cry  unto  the  Lord  against  thee.”  “  Thou  shalt  not  per¬ 
vert  the  judgment  of  the  stranger  nor  of  the  fatherless,  nor  take 
the  widow’s  raiment  as  pledge;  thou  shalt  remember  that  thou 
wast  a  bondman  in  Egypt,  and  the  Lord  thy  God  redeemed  thee, 
therefore  I  command  thee  to  do  this  thing.”  “  When  thou  cuttest 
down  thy  harvest  and  hast  forgot  a  sheaf  in  the  held,  thou  shalt 
not  go  again  to  fetch  it,  it  shall  be  for  the  stranger,  the  fatherless, 
and  the  widow.  When  thou  beatest  thine  olive-tree,  thou  shalt 
not  go  over  it  again ;  when  thou  gatherest  the  grapes  of  thy  vine¬ 
yard,  thou  shalt  not  glean  it  afterward,  it  shall  be  for  the  stranger, 
the  fatherless,  and  the  widow.” 

In  all  this,  we  see  how  deep  was  the  impression  made  on  the 
mind  of  Moses  by  the  enslaved  and  helpless  condition  of  his  peo¬ 
ple.  He  had  felt  for  the  struggles  of  the  enslaved,  and  it  made 
him  tender  to  the  wild  bird  of  the  desert  beating1  against  its  cage, 
to  the  overloaded  ass  fainting  under  his  burden,  to  the  hungry  ox 
toiling  to  procure  food  which  he  was  restricted  from  enjoying. 

Of  the  period  including  the  time  that  Moses  left  his  mother  and 
sister  to  dwell  in  the  palace  of  the  Pharaohs,  and  receive  the  edu¬ 
cation  of  an  Egyptian  prince,  we  have  no  record  in  the  sacred 
narrative,  except  the  declaration  of  Stephen  in  the  book  of  Acts, 
that  he  was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians,  and 
mighty  in  word  and  deed. 

In  Smith’s  Dictionary  of  the  Bible  there  is  a  brief  resume  ot  what 
is  said  by  ancient  authors  of  this  period  of  his  life.  According  to 
Strabo,  he  was  educated  at  Heliopolis,  and  grew  up  there  ns  a 
priest,  under  his  Egyptian  name  of  Osariph.  According  to  l’ltilo, 
he  was  taught  the  whole  range  of  Greek,  Chaldee,  and  Assyrian 
literature.  From  the  Egyptians,  especially,  he  learned  mathe¬ 
matics,  to  train  his  mind  for  the  unprejudiced  reception  of  truth. 
He  invented  boats,  engines  for  building,  instruments  of  war  and 
of  hydraulics,  and  also  understood  hieroglyphics  and  mensuration 
of  land.  He  taught  Orpheus,  and  is  thence  called  by  the  Greeks 
Musseus,  and  by  the  Egyptians  Hermes.  According  to  Josephus, 
he  was  sent  as  general  of  the  Egyptian  army  on  an  expedition 
against  Ethiopia.  He  got  rid  of  the  serpents,  in  the  countries 
through  which  he  was  to  march,  by  turning  basketfuls  ot  ibises 


WOMAN  IX  S ACHED  HISTORY. 


upon  them.  Tharbis,  tlie  daughter  of  tlie  King  of  Ethiopia,  fell 
in  love  with  him,  and  induced  her  father  to  surrender  to  him ; 
and  lie  returned  in  triumph  with  her  to  Egypt  as  his  wife,  and 
founded  the  city  of  Hermopolis  to  celebrate  his  victory.  We  see 
here,  that  if  Moses  remained  true  to  the  teachings  of  his  mother 
and  sister,  and  the  simple  faith  of  Israel,  it  was  not  for  want  of 
the  broadest  culture  the  world  afforded.  Egypt  was  the  cradle 
of  arts  and  letters,  and  the  learned  men  of  Greece  traveled  there 
to  study  the  mysteries  which  were  concealed  under  her  hiero¬ 
glyphics.  Moses  was  a  priest  of  Egypt  in  virtue  of  being  a 
prince  of  a  royal  house.  According  to  the  Egyptian  tradition, 
although  a  priest  of  Heliopolis,  he  always  performed  his  devo¬ 
tions  outside  the  walls  of  the  city,  in  the  open  air,  turned  towards 
the  sunrising.  According  to  the  language  of  St.  Paul,  “  he  en¬ 
dured  as  seeing  Him  that  is  invisible.” 

In  Wilkinson’s  “  Egypt,”  we  have  some  interesting  sugges¬ 
tions  as  to  the  life  and  training  of  the  Egyptian  priest,  which 
go  far  to  show  what  manner  of  education  must  have  been  given 
to  Moses.  The  utmost  purity  of  person  was  enjoined.  Daily 
and  nightly  bathing  of  the  whole  person,  a  dress  of  pure  linen, 
great  exactness  as  to  food,  with  strict  dietetic  regulations,  were 
also  a  part  of  the  training.  The  Egyptians  were  the  fountains 
of  physiological  and  medical  knowledge  to  the  nations  of  antiq¬ 
uity,  and  undoubtedly  these  studies  were  a  part  of  the  “  wisdom  ” 
of  the  priests.  Moses  must  also  have  passed  through  the  lesser 
and  the  greater  initiation  into  the  mysteries  of  Egypt ;  in  which 
were  taught  the  unity  of  God,  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and 
the  retributions  of  a  future  life.  Thus  he  had  an  opportunity  of 
comparing  that  portion  of  the  Divine  teaching  and  traditions  which 
had  descended  through  Egypt,  with  the  pure  stream  which  had 
flowed  down  through  the  patriarchal  families. 

It  thus  appears  that  the  Divine  Being,  in  choosing  the  teacher 
and  lawgiver  to  form  his  chosen  nation,  did  not  disdain  the 
existing  wisdom  of  the  world  up  to  that  time.  Moses  had  before 
him  the  results  of  all  the  world’s  experience  in  thought  and 
culture.  Egypt  was  the  best  there  was  to  know,  and  lie  knew 
Egypt  thoroughly.  While,  however,  he  often  took  suggestions 

84 


MIRIAM,  SISTER  OF  MOSES. 


from  the  ritual  and  philosophy  of  the  Egyptians,  the  general 
bent  of  his  institutes  in  reference  to  them  was  jealous  and  an¬ 
tagonistic. 

At  the  end  of  such  a  training  and  such  varied  experience,  — 
as  priest,  as  general,  as  conqueror,  —  Moses  returns  to  Egypt 
and  meets  again  his  sister,  in  whose  heart  the  prophetic  fire  is 
still  burning ;  and  the  sight  of  the  oppression  and  misery  of 
his  people  leads  him  to  seek  to  interpose  for  their  deliverance. 
The  first  act  is  the  simple,  unadvised  movement  of  indignation 
at  injustice  ;  he  sees  a  Hebrew  slave  writhing  under  the  lash 
of  an  Egyptian ;  he  kills  the  tyrant  and  delivers  the  slave. 
He  next  tries  to  rouse  a  national  spirit  of  union  among  his 
people,  and  separates  two  who  are  fighting,  with  the  words, 
“  Ye  are  brethren,  and  should  not  contend.”  St.  Stephen  fur¬ 
ther  interprets  the  heart  of  Moses  at  this  crisis:  “For  he  sup¬ 
posed  that  his  brethren  would  have  understood  how  that  God 
by  his  hand  would  deliver  them  :  but  they  understood  not.  But 
he  that  did  his  neighbor  wrong  thrust  him  away,  saying,  Who 
made  thee  a  ruler  and  a  judge  over  us  ?  Wilt  thou  kill  me  as 
thou  didst  the  Egyptian  yesterday?”  (Acts  vii.  25,  27,  28.) 
According  to  Josephus,  there  were  at  this  time  envious  and 
jealous  plots  hatching  against  Moses  in  the  court  of  Pharaoh, 
and  his  life  was  threatened. 

He  fled  to  the  land  of  Midian,  where,  with  characteristic 
chivalry,  his  first  act  was  to  interfere  for  the  protection  of 
some  women  who  were  prevented  by  the  brutality  of  the 
shepherd  herdsmen  from  watering  their  flocks. 

Still  we  see  in  him  the  protector  of  the  weak  and  defenseless. 
In  this  case  his  interference  procures  for  him  the  gratitude  of  the 
priest  of  the  shepherd  tribe,  and  the  exiled  Egyptian  prince  be- 
comes  a  shepherd  in  the  wilderness  of  Midian.  He  marries  and 
settles  down,  apparently  content  with  the  life  of  a  simple  herds¬ 
man.  This  seems  to  have  been  one  of  those  refluent  tides  to 
which  natures  of  great  sensibility  are  liable,  after  a  short  ex¬ 
perience  of  the  realities  of  life.  At  once  ardent  and  tender, 
Moses  had  been  ready  to  cast  in  his  fortunes  with  his  oppressed 
and  suffering  people;  but  he  found  them  unwilling  to  listen  to 


1I7LV.LV  m  SAGE  ED  HISTORY. 


him,  and  unworthy  of  freedom.  His  heart  sinks, — the  grandeur 
of  courts,  military  renown,  the  wisdom  of  Egypt,  are  all  less  in 
his  eyes  than  even  the  reproach  of  a  good  cause  ;  but  he  feels 
himself  powerless  and  alone,  rejected  by  the  very  people  whom 
he  came  to  serve.  Like  the  Greater  Prophet  of  whom  he  was 
the  type,  “  He  came  unto  his  own,  and  his  own  received  him 
not.” 

In  sinking  of  heart  and  despair,  the  solitude  of  the  wilder¬ 
ness,  its  loneliness  and  stern  simplicity,  are  a  refuge  and  rest 
to  him.  In  the  great  calm  of  nature  he  draws  near  to  Him 
who  is  invisible.  What  is  most  peculiar  in  the  character  of 
Moses,  with  all  his  advantages  of  beauty,  rank,  station,  educa¬ 
tion,  and  military  success,  is  a  singular  absence  of  self-esteem  and 
self-reliance.  When  the  God  of  his  fathers  appears  in  flaming 
fire  and  commissions  him  to  go  and  lead  forth  his  oppressed 
people,  Moses  shrinks  from  the  position,  and  prays  that  it  may 
be  given  to  another.  He  is  not  eloquent ;  he  says,  he  is  of  stam¬ 
mering  speech  and  a  slow  tongue,  and  he  prays  the  Lord  to 
choose  another.  How  often  it  happens  that  the  work  of  the 
world  is  thus  put  upon  men  who  shrink  from  it,  —  not  from 
indolence,  but  from  an  exalted  ideality,  a  high  conception  of 
the  work  to  be  done !  Moses  was  dumb  and  stammering  with 
low-minded,  vulgar-natured  men,  as  men  who  live  high  up  in 
the  radiant  air  of  the  nobler  feelings  often  are.  How  bring-  his 
great  thoughts  and  purer  feelings  down  to  their  conceptions  ? 
He  must  have  a  spokesman,  and  evidently  regards  his  brother 
Aaron  as  better  fitted  to  take  the  lead  than  himself. 

Aaron  seems  to  be  a  specimen  of  that  class  of  men  —  facile, 
sympathetic,  easily  moved,  and  with  a  ready  gift  of  words  — 
whom  greater  natures  often  admire  for  a  facility  and  fluency 
which  their  very  greatness  denies  to  them.  And  yet  it  is  this 
Aaron  who,  when  Moses  had  been  more  than  a  month  absent  on 
the  mount,  was  carried  away  by  the  demand  of  the  people  to 
make  them  a  visible  god  ;  and  who,  if  his  brother  had  not  cast 
himself  down  in  agony  of  intercession,  would  have  been  swept 
away  by  the  Divine  anger. 

In  the  great  scene  of  the  national  deliverance,  after  the  passage 

86 


MIRIAM,  SISTER  OF  MOSES. 


of  the  Red  Sea,  behold  Moses  and  Miriam  once  more  reunited  in 
a  grand  act  of  national  triumph  !  A  solemn  procession  goes  forth 
on  the  shores  of  the  sea,  and  Moses  leads  the  psalm  of  thanksgiv¬ 
ing.  “  And  Miriam  the  prophetess,  the  sister  of  Aaron,  took  a 
timbrel  in  her  hand  ;  and  all  the  women  went  out  after  her  with 
timbrels  and  with  dances.  And  Miriam  answered  them,  saying, 
Sing  ye  to  the  Lord,  for  he  hath  triumphed  gloriously  ;  the  horse 
and  his  rider  hath  he  thrown  into  the  sea.”  The  solemn  union  of 
man  and  woman  in  this  great  public  act  of  worship  and  thanks¬ 
giving,  which  inaugurated  a  free  nation,  is  indicative  of  the 
equality  given  to  women  by  the  Divine  Being  in  all  that  per¬ 
tains  to  the  spiritual  and  immortal.  “  On  your  sons  and  your 
daughters ,”  says  the  prophet  Joel,  “  I  will  pour  out  of  my  spirit, 
and  they  shall  prophesy”;  and  the  same  passage  is  quoted  by 
St.  Peter  as  expressive  of  the  genius  of  the  opening  Christian 
dispensation.  Thus  we  find  at  the  opening  of  the  Mosaic,  as 
well  as  the  Christian  dispensation,  this  announcement  of  the 
equality  of  the  sexes  in  their  spiritual  nature. 

Many  circumstances  make  it  probable  that  as  Moses  and 
Miriam  unitedly  led  the  devotions  of  the  people  on  this  most 
solemn  of  national  festivals,  so  they  continued  to  be  united  in 
administrative  station  during  that  important  period  when  the 
national  code  of  laws  and  religious  ritual  were  being  crystal¬ 
lized  and  consolidated.  We  infer  from  a  passage  in  the  prophet 
Micah,*  that  it  was  not  in  mere  brotherly  fondness  that  Moses 
would  have  consulted  this  sister,  who  had  been  to  him  as  a 
mother,  but  that  she  was  understood  to  be  one  of  the  divinely 
appointed  leaders  of  the  people,  and  that  lie  was  thus  justified 
in  leaning  upon  her  for  counsel. 

Moses  was  distinguished  above  all  men  we  read  of  in  his¬ 
tory  by  a  singular  absence  of  egoism.  He  was  like  a  mother 
in  the  midst  of  the  great  people  whose  sins,  infirmities,  and  sor¬ 
rows  he  bore  upon  his  heart  with  scarcely  a  consciousness  of 


*  Micah,  who  prophesied  in  the  reign  of  Hezekiah,  represents  tin  Divirv  Tleing  -  ■' 
addressing  his  people  :  “  I  brought  thee  up  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt ;  I  sent  Wforc  tin 
Moses  and  Aaron  awl  Miriam”  (Micah  vi.  4).  This  is  an  indorsement  more  direet  than 
any  other  prophetess  ever  received. 


WOMAN  IN  S ACHED  JUS  TOE  Y. 


self.  He  had  no  personal  interests.  He  was  a  man  so  lowly 
and  gentle  of  demeanor  that  all  his  associates  felt  free  to  ad¬ 
vise  him.  Thus  his  father-in-law,  Jethro,  visiting  him  in  the 
wilderness,  expresses  himself  with  perfect  freedom  in  regard  to 
the  excessive  toil  he  is  undergoing  in  the  care  of  the  people, 
and  suggests  the  appointment  of  elders  who  should  share  the 
work  of  management.  The  eighteenth  chapter  of  Exodus  is  a 
beautiful  picture  of  the  character  and  demeanor  of  Moses  to¬ 
wards  his  father-in-law,  and  of  his  meek  readiness  to  take 
advice.  It  appears  that  in  all  the  long,  laborious  journey 
through  the  wilderness,  Moses  felt  the  burden  and  the  respon¬ 
sibility  altogether  more  than  the  honor,  and  there  is  a  despair¬ 
ing  freedom  in  the  complaints  he  sometimes  pours  out  to  his 
God.  Thus  in  one  of  the  periods  of  national  discontent,  when 
the  people  were  all  u  weeping  and  murmuring  every  man  in 
his  tent  door,”  Moses  says,  “  Wherefore  hast  thou  afflicted  thy 
servant  ?  and  why  have  I  not  found  favor  in  thine  eyes,  that 
thou  layest  the  burden  of  all  this  people  upon  me  !  Have  I 
conceived  all  this  people,  —  have  I  begotten  them,  that  thou 
shouldst  say,  Carry  them  in  thy  bosom  as  a  nursing  father 
beareth  the  sucking  child,  unto  the  land  which  thou  swarest 
unto  their  fathers!  I  am  not  able  to  bear  all  this  people  alone, 
because  it  is  too  heavy  for  me.  And  if  thou  deal  thus  with 
me,  kill  me,  I  pray  tliee,  out  of  hand,  if  I  have  found  favor  in 
thy  sight ;  and  let  me  not  see  my  wretchedness.”  The  answer 
to  this  prayer  is  the  appointment  of  seventy  elders,  under  the 
care  of  God,  to  be  sharers  in  the  responsibilities  of  Moses. 
This  division  of  responsibility  seems  to  have  relieved  Moses, 
and  he  had  not  a  thought  of  divided  honor,  though  it  at  once 
occurred  to  others  with  regard  to  him.  When  the  gift  of 
prophecy  descended  upon  some  of  these  seventy  elders,  it 
seems  to  have  been  imagined  by  some  that  this  honor  would 
take  from  the  dignity  of  Moses ;  and  we  are  told  (Num.  xi. 
28,  29),  “  Joshua,  the  son  of  Nun,  the  servant  of  Moses,  one 
of  his  young  men,  answered  and  said,  My  lord  Moses,  forbid 
them.  And  Moses  said  unto  him,  Enviest  thou  for  my  sake ! 
Woidd  God  that  all  the  Lord’s  people  were  prophets  !  ”  If  now 

88 


MIRIAM,  SISTER  OF  MOSES. 


we  consider  this  singular  meekness  and  unselfishness  of  Moses, 
we  may  easily  see  how  it  might  be  a  temptation  to  an  ambi¬ 
tious,  self-asserting  spirit  to  cross  beyond  the  proper  limit  of 
advice  and  counsel  into  that  of  tyrannical  dictation. 

We  have  seen,  in  the  few  scenes  where  Miriam  has  appeared, 
that  she  had  a  peculiar,  prompt  self-assertion  and  ready  posi¬ 
tiveness  which  made  leadership  a  necessity  and  a  pleasure  to 
her.  She  was  a  woman  to  court  rather  than  shrink  from  re¬ 
sponsibility,  and  to  feel  to  the  full  all  the  personal  dignity 
and  glory  which  her  rank  and  position  gave  her;  and,  accord¬ 
ingly,  the  sacred  narrative,  which  conceals  no  fault,  informs  us 
how  gradually  these  unwatched  traits  grew  up  into  the  very 
worst  form  of  selfish  ambition.  After  all  the  trials  and  sor¬ 
rows  of  Moses,  all  the  cabals  and  murmurings  that  wearied  his 
soul  and  made  him  feel  that  life  was  a  burden  to  him,  we 
come  at  last  to  the  severest  trial  of  his  life,  when  the  sister 
and  brother  on  whom  he  had  leaned  joined  against  him.  The 
whole  incident,  recorded  in  Numbers  xii.,  is  most  painful  and 
most  singular.  “  And  Miriam  and  Aaron  spake  against  Moses 
on  account  of  an  Ethiopian  woman  whom  he  had  married.” 
This  is  after  the  visit  of  his  Midianite  father-in-law,  Jethro, 
who  brought  back  to  Moses  his  wife  and  two  sons,  from  whom 
he  had  been  long  separated.  It  is  supposed  by  some  that  this 
“woman  of  Cush”  is  the  person  referred  to.  If  Moses  had  to 
this  time  been  without  a  wife,  he  had  been  entirely  devoted 
to  his  sister.  Now  another  female  influence  comes  in,  —  the 
wife  of  Moses  may  have  felt  disposed  to  assert  her  position 
among1  the  women  of  Israel,  and  thus  a  broil  may  have  arisen. 
One  can  easily  imagine  subjects  of  contention,  and  great  vi¬ 
vacity  of  dissent,  and  the  authority  of  Moses  would  naturally 
be  referred  to  as  the  supreme  one. 

Miriam  and  Aaron  join  together  to  repudiate  that  authority, 
and  set  themselves  up  as  equals.  “And  they  said,  Hath  the 
Lord  indeed  spoken  only  by  Moses?  Hath  he  not  spoken  also 
by  us?  And  the  Lord  heard  it.  And  the  Lord  spake  sud¬ 
denly  to  Moses  and  Aaron  and  Miriam,  Come  out  ye  three 
unto  the  tabernacle  of  the  congregation.  And  they  three  came 

89 


WOMAN  IX  S ACHED  HISTORY. 


out.  And  the  Lord  came  down  in  the  pillar  of  cloud,  and  stood 
in  the  door  of  the  tabernacle,  and  called  forth  Moses  and  Aaron 
and  Miriam,  and  he  said :  Hear  now  my  words.  If  there  be  a 
prophet  among  you,  I  the  Lord  will  make  myself  known  unto 
him  in  a  vision,  and  will  speak  unto  him  in  a  dream.  My  ser¬ 
vant  Moses  is  not  so,  who  is  faithful  in  all  my  house.  With 
him  I  will  speak  mouth  to  mouth,  even  apparently,  and  not  in 
dark  speeches,  and  the  similitude  of  the  Lord  shall  he  behold. 
Wherefore,  then,  were  ye  not  afraid  to  speak  against  my  servant 
Moses  ?  And  the  anger  of  the  Lord  was  kindled,  and  the  Lord 
departed  from  them,  and  the  cloud  departed  from  the  tabernacle ; 
and  behold  Miriam  became  leprous,  white  as  snow;  and  Aaron 
looked  upon  Miriam,  and  behold  she  was  leprous.  And  Aaron 
said  to  Moses,  Alas,  my  lord,  lay  not  this  sin  upon  us,  wherein  we 
have  done  foolishly  and  wherein  we  have  sinned.  Let  her  not 
be  as  one  dead,  of  whom  the  flesh  is  half  consumed  when  he 
cometli  out  of  his  mother’s  womb.  And  Moses  cried  unto  the 
Lord,  saying,  Heal  her  now,  0  Lord,  I  beseech  thee.”  The  an¬ 
swer  given  to  Moses  draws  a  strong  simile  from  the  customs  of 
those  desert  tribes  where  the  father  holds  almost  the  sacred  place 
of  a  god  in  the  family.  If  her  own  father  had  expressed  towards 
her  the  utmost  extreme  of  mingled  indignation  and  loathing  at  her 
coilduct,  would  she  not  be  ashamed  for  a  while  ?  And  the  com¬ 
mand  is  given  that  she  be  shut  out  from  the  camp  for  seven  days. 

It  is  evidence  of  the  high  position  held  by  this  woman,  that 
the  whole  camp  of  Israel  waited  during  those  seven  days,  while 
she  was  suffering  under  this  terrible  rebuke.  The  severity  of 
the  rebuke  and  punishment  which  fell  upon  Miriam  seems  at 
first  sight  excessive.  But  we  shall  notice,  in  the  whole  line  of 
the  traditions  with  respect  to  the  prophetic  office,  the  most  com¬ 
plete  unselfishness  is  absolutely  required.  To  use  the  prophetic 
gift  in  any  manner  for  personal  ambition  or  aggrandizement,  was 
sacrilege.  The  prophet  must  be  totally,  absolutely  without  self. 
His  divine  gifts  must  never  be  used  for  any  personal  and  indi¬ 
vidual  purpose,  even  for  the  relief  of  utmost  want.  Thus  the 
great  prophets,  Elijah  and  Elisha,  gifted  with  miraculous  power, 
wandered  hungry  in  the  desert,  and  waited  to  be  fed  by  God. 

90 


MIRIAM,  SISTER  OF  MOSES. 


1 1ms  Jesus,  the  Head  of  all  the  Prophets,  when  after  wandering 
forty  days  he  was  an  hungered,  refused  the  suggestion  to  feed 
himself  by  his  own  miraculous  power,  aud  also  the  suggestion  to 
glorify  himself  by  a  public  display  of  that  power. 

Miriam,  as  we  have  seen,  had  naturally  a  great  many  of  those 
personal  traits  which  easily  degenerate  into  selfish  ambition. 
She  was  self-confident,  energetic,  and  self-asserting  by  nature, 
and  she  had  been  associating  with  a  brother  whose  peculiar  un¬ 
selfishness  and  disposition  to  prefer  others  in  honor  before  him¬ 
self  had  given  full  scope  to  her  love  of  dictation.  Undoubtedly, 
in  most  things  her  influence  and  her  advice  had  been  good, 
and  there  had  been,  in  her  leadership  among  the  women  of 
Israel,  much  that  was  valuable  and  admirable.  But  one  of  the 
most  fearful  possibilities  in  our  human  experience  is  the  silent 
manner  in  which  the  divine  essence  exhales  from  our  virtues 
and  they  become  first  faults  and  afterward  sins.  Sacred  enthusi¬ 
asms,  solemn  and  awful  trusts  for  noble  purposes,  may,  before  we 
know  it,  degenerate  into  mere  sordid  implements  of  personal 
ambition.  In  the  solemn  drama  that  has  been  represented  in 
Scripture,  the  punishment  that  falls  on  the  prophetess  symbol¬ 
izes  this  corruption.  God  departs  from  the  selfish  and  self- 
seeking-  soul,  and,  with  God,  all  spiritual  life.  The  living,  life- 
giving,  inspired  prophetess  becomes  a  corrupt  and  corrupting 
leper.  Such  was  the  awful  lesson  spoken  in  this  symbol  of  lep¬ 
rosy;  and,  while  the  gifted  leader  of  Israel  waited  without  the 
camp,  the  nation  pondered  it  in  silence. 

One  cannot  but  wonder  at  the  apparent  disproportion  of  the 
punishment  upon  Aaron.  Yet,  by  careful  observation,  we  shall 
find  it  to  be  a  general  fact  in  the  Divine  dealings,  that  the  sins  of 
weakness  are  less  severely  visited  than  the  sins  of  strength. 
Aaron’s  Avas  evidently  one  of  those  Aveak  and  yielding  natures 
that  are  taken  possession  of  by  stronger  ones,  as  absolutely  as  ;i 
child  is  by  a  groAvn  man.  His  Avas  one  of  those  sympathetic 
organizations  Avliich  cannot  resist  the  force  ot  stronger  wi! 
All  his  sins  are  the  sins  of  this  kind  of  temperament.  I  o  suffer 
bitterly,  and  to  repent  deeply,  is  also  essential  to  this  nature; 
and  in  the  punishment  which  fell  on  the  sister  aa  ho  had  tempted 

91 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 

him,  Aaron  was  more  punished  than  in  anything  that  could 
have  befallen  himself.  There  is  utter  anguish  and  misery  in  the 
cry  which  he  utters  when  he  sees  his  sister  thus  stricken. 

There  seems  to  have  been  a  deep  purpose  in  thus  appointing 
to  the  priestly  office  a  man  peculiarly  liable  to  the  sins  and 
errors  of  an  excess  of  sympathy.  The  apostle  says,  that  the 
proper  idea  of  a  priest  was  one  “  who  could  have  compassion  on 
the  ignorant,  and  on  them  that  are  out  of  the  way,  for  that  he 
also  is  compassed  with  infirmity.”  Among  men  such  humility  is 
only  acquired  by  bitter  failures.  At  the  same  time  a  nature  so 
soft  and  yielding  could  not  be  smitten  like  a  stronger  one  with¬ 
out  being  utterly  destroyed.  Aaron  appears  to  have  been  so 
really  crushed  and  humbled  by  the  blow  which  struck  his  sister 
that  he  suffered  all  of  which  he  was  capable.  The  whole  office 
of  the  priest  was  one  of  confession  and  humiliation.  In  every 
symbol  and  every  ceremony  he  expressed  a  sense  of  utmost  un¬ 
worthiness  and  need  of  a  great  expiation.  It  seems,  therefore,  in 
sympathy  with  the  great  and  merciful  design  of  such  an  office, 
that  for  its  first  incumbent  should  be  chosen  a  man  representing 
the  infirmity  rather  than  the  strength  of  humanity.  Our  own 
experience  in  human  nature  is,  that  those  who  err  from  too  sym- 
pathetic  an  organization,  and  a  weak  facility  in  receiving  impres¬ 
sions  from  others,  may  yet  have  great  hold  on  the  affections  of 
men,  and  be  the  most  merciful  counsellors  of  the  sinful  and 
tempted. 

The  great  Leader  of  Israel,  who  proclaimed  his  name  through 
Moses  as  forgiving  iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin,  evidently  fully 
forgave  and  restored  both  Miriam  and  Aaron,  since  he  remained 
in  the  priestly  office,  and  she  is  subsequently  mentioned  in 
Holy  Writ  as  an  ordained  prophetess. 

After  this  scene  in  the  desert  we  lose  sight  of  Miriam  entirely, 
and  are  only  reminded  of  her  in  one  significant  passage,  where  it 
is  said  to  Israel,  u  Remember  what  the  Lord  thy  God  did  to 
Miriam  by  the  way,  after  ye  were  come  forth  from  Egypt 
(Deut.  xxiv.  9).  Her  death  is  recorded,  Numbers  xx.  1. 
Josephus  gives  an  account  of  her  funeral  obsequies,  which  were 
celebrated  in  the  most  solemn  manner  for  thirty  days ;  the 

92 


MIRIAM, ,  SISTER  OF  MOSES. 

same  honor  was  shown  to  a  woman  endowed  with  the  pro¬ 
phetic  commission  that  was  given  to  her  brothers;  and  not  only 
so,  but,  as  late  as  the  time  of  St.  Jerome,  the  tomb  of  Miriam 
was  shown  as  an  object  of  veneration. 

One  thing  in  respect  to  the  sacred  and  prophetic  women  of 
the  Jewish  race  is  peculiar.  They  were  uniformly,  so  far 
as  appears,  married  women  and  mothers  of  families,  and  not 
like  the  vestal  virgins  of  antiquity,  set  apart  from  the  usual 
family  duties  of  women.  Josephus  mentions  familiarly  the 
husband  of  Miriam  as  being  Hur,  the  well-known  companion 
and  assistant  of  Moses  on  a  certain  public  occasion.  He  also 
refers  to  Bezaleel,  one  of  the  architects  who  assisted  in  the  erec¬ 
tion  of  the  tabernacle,  as  her  grandson.  We  shall  lind,  by 
subsequent  examination  of  the  lives  of  prophetic  women  who 
were  called  to  be  leaders  in  Israel,  that  they  came  from  the 
bosom  of  the  family,  and  were  literally,  as  well  as  metaphori¬ 
cally,  mothers  in  Israel.  In  the  same  year  that  Miriam  died, 
Aaron,  her  brother,  was  also  laid  to  rest,  and,  of  the  three,  Moses 
remained  alone. 

It  is  remarkable  that  while  Jewish  tradition  regarded  Miriam 
with  such  veneration,  while  we  see  her  spoken  of  in  Holy  Writ  as 
a  divinely  appointed  leader,  yet  there  are  none  of  her  writings 
transmitted  to  us,  as  in  the  case  of  other  and  less  revered  proph¬ 
etesses.  The  record  of  her  fault  and  its  punishment  is  given 
with  the  frankness  with  which  the  Bible  narrates  the  failings 
of  the  very  best  ;  and,  after  that,  nothing  further  is  said.  But 
it  is  evident  that  that  one  fault  neither  shook  her  brother’s  love 
nor  the  regard  of  the  nation  for  her.  Josephus  expressly  men¬ 
tions  that  the  solemn  funeral  honors  which  were  shown  her, 
and  which  held  the  nation  as  mourners  for  thirty  days,  were 
ordered  and  conducted  by  Moses,  who  thus  expressed  his  love 
and  veneration  for  the  sister  who  watched  his  infancy  and 
shared  his  labors.  The  national  reverence  for  Miriam  is  shown 
in  the  Rabbinic  tradition,  that,  on  account  ot  her  courage  and 
devotion  in  saving  her  brother’s  life  at  the  Nile,  a  spring  <>l 
living  water,  of  which  the  people  drank,  always  followed  lior 
footsteps  through  her  wanderings  in  the  wilderness.  <  >n  her 

9.3 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HIS  TOBY 


death  the  spring  became  diy.  No  more  touching  proof  of  a 
nation’s  affectionate  memory  can  be  given  than  a  legend  like 
this.  Is  it  not  in  a  measure  true  of  every  noble,  motherly 
woman  ? 

Yet,  like  many  of  her  sex  who  have  watched  the  cradle  of 
great  men,  and  been  their  guardians  in  infancy  and  their  confi¬ 
dential  counsellors  in  maturity,  Miriam  is  known  by  Moses  more 
than  by  herself. 

As  sunshine  reappears  in  the  forms  of  the  plants  and  flowers 
it  has  stimulated  into  existence,  so  much  of  the  power  of  noble 
women  appears,  not  in  themselves,  but  in  the  men  who  are 
gradually  molded  and  modified  by  them.  It  was  a  worthy 
mission  of  a  prophetess  to  form  a  lawgiver.  We  cannot  but 
feel  that  from  the  motherly  heart  of  this  sister,  associated  with 
him  in  the  prophetic  office,  Moses  must  have  gained  much  of 
that  peculiar  knowledge  of  the  needs  and  wants  and  feelings  of 
women  which  in  so  many  instances  shaped  his  administration. 

The  law  which  protected  the  children  of  an  unbeloved  wife 
from  a  husband’s  partiality,  the  law  which  secured  so  much 
delicacy  and  consideration  to  a  captive  woman,  the  law  which 
secured  the  marriage-rights  of  the  purchased  slave  and  forbade 
making  merchandise  of  her,  the  law  which  gave  to  the  newly 
married  wife  the  whole  of  the  first  year  of  her  husband’s  time 
and  attention,  are  specimens  of  what  we  mean  when  we  say  that 
the  influence  of  a  noble-hearted  woman  passed  into  the  laws  of 
Moses.  No  man  could  be  more  chivalric  or  more  ready  to  pro¬ 
tect,  but  it  required  a  woman’s  heart  to  show  where  protection 
was  most  needed,  and  we  see  in  all  these  minute  guardings  of 
family  life  why  the  Divine  Being  speaks  of  a  woman  as  being 
divinely  associated  with  the  great  lawgiver:  “I  sent  before  you 
Moses  and  Aaron  and  Miriam.” 

Thus  a  noble  womanly  influence  passed  through  Moses  into 
permanent  institutions.  The  nation  identified  her  with  the  man 
who  was  their  glory,  and  Miriam  became  immortal  in  Moses. 

94 


THE  FINDING  OF  MOSES. 


\T  glides  the  Nile  :  amid  the  margin  flags, 
>sed  in  a  bulrush  ark,  the  babe  is  left,  — 
t  by  a  mother’s  hand.  His  sister  waits 
Far  oft';  and  pale,  ’tween  hope  and  fear,  beholds 
Tiie  royal  maid,  surrounded  by  her  train, 

Approach  the  river-bank,  —  approach  the  spot 
Where  sleeps  the  innocent.  She  sees  them  stoop 
With  meeting  plumes  ;  the  rushy  lid  is  oped, 

And  wakes  the  infant,  smiling  in  his  tears,— 

As  when  along  a  little  mountain  lake 

The  summer  south-wind  breathes  until  gentle  sigh, 

And  parts  the  reeds,  unveiling,  as  they  bend, 

A  water-lily  floating  on  the  wave. 


95 


James  Grahamc. 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  RED  SEA. 


WELCOME  came  the  morn,  where  Israel  stood 
In  trustless  wonder  by  the  avenging  flood  ! 

0,  welcome  came  the  cheerful  morn,  to  show 
The  drifted  wreck  of  Zoan’s  pride  below  ! 

The  mangled  limbs  of  men  —  the  broken  car  — 

A  few  sad  relies  of  a  nation’s  war  ; 

Alas,  how  few  !  Then,  soft  as  Elim’s  well, 

The  precious  tears  of  new-born  freedom  fell. 

And  he,  whose  hardened  heart  alike  had  borne 
The  house  of  bondage  and  the  oppressor’s  scorn, 

The  stubborn  slave,  by  hope’s  new  beams  subdued, 

In  faltering  accents  sobbed  his  gratitude, 

Till  kindling  into  warmer  zeal,  around 
The  virgin  timbrel  waked  its  silver  sound  ; 

And  in  fierce  joy,  no  more  by  doubt  supprest, 

The  struggling  spirit  throbbed  in  Miriam’s  breast. 

She,  with  bare  arms,  and  fixing  on  the  sky 
The  dark  transparence  of  her  lucid  eye, 

Poured  on  the  winds  of  heaven  her  wild,  sweet  harmony. 
“  Where  now,”  she  sang,  “  the  tall  Egyptian  spear  ? 

On's  sunlike  shield,  and  Zoan’s  chariot,  where  ? 

Above  their  ranks  the  whelming  waters  spread ! 

Shout,  Israel,  for  the  Lord  hath  triumphed !  ” 

And  every  pause  between,  as  Miriam  sang, 

From  tribe  to  tribe  the  martial  thunder  rang, 

And  loud  and  far  their  stormy  chorus  spread,  — 

“  Shout,  Israel,  for  the  Lord  hath  triumphed  !  ” 

Reginald  Heber. 


96 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  ISRAEL. 


E  daughters  and  soldiers  of  Israel,  look  back  ! 

Where,  where  arc  the  thousands  who  shadowed  your  track, 

The  chariots  that  shook  the  deep  earth  as  they  rolled, _ 

The  banners  of  silk,  and  the  helmets  of  gold  ? 


Where  arc  they,  —  the  vultures,  whose  beaks  would  have  fed 
On  the  tide  of  your  hearts  ere  the  pulses  had  fled? 

Give  glory  to  God,  who  in  mercy  arose, 

And  strewed  mid  the  waters  the  strength  of  our  foes ! 


When  we  traveled  the  waste  of  the  desert  by  day, 

With  his  banner-cloud’s  motion  He  marshaled  our  way  ; 
When  we  saw  the  tired  sun  in  his  glory  expire, 

Before  us  He  walked  in  a  pillar  of  fire  ! 


But  this  morn,  and  the  Israelites’  strength  was  a  reed 
That  shook  with  the  thunder  of  chariot  and  steed : 
Where  now  are  the  swords  and  their  far-flashing  sweep  ? 
Their  lightnings  arc  quenched  in  the  depths  of  the  deep  ! 


0  Thou  who  redeemest  the  weak  one  at  length, 

And  scourgest  the  strong  in  the  pride  of  their  strength,  — 
Wrho  boldest  the  earth  and  the  sea  in  Thine  hand, 

And  rulest  Eternity’s  shadowy  land,  — 


To  Thee  let  our  thoughts  and  our  offerings  tend, 

Of  virtue  the  Hope,  and  of  sorrow  the  Friend  ; 

Let  the  incense  of  prayer  still  ascend  to  Thy  throne, 
Omnipotent,  —  glorious,  —  eternal,  —  alone  ! 

Anonymous. 


97 


MIRIAM’S  SONG. 


UND  the  loud  timbrel  o’er  Egypt’s  dark  sea ! 
Jehovah  has  triumphed  !  His  people  are  free  ! 
Sing,  —  for  the  pride  of  the  tyrant  is  broken  ; 
His  chariots,  his  horsemen,  all  splendid  and  brave, 

How  vain  was  their  boasting !  the  Lord  hath  but  spoken, 
And  chariots  and  horsemen  are  sunk  in  the  wave. 
Sound  the  loud  timbrel  o’er  Egypt’s  dark  sea ! 

Jehovah  has  triumphed !  His  people  are  free  ! 


Praise  to  the  Conqueror,  praise  to  the  Lord, 

His  word  was  our  arrow,  His  breath  was  our  sword  ! 

'Who  shall  return  to  tell  Egypt  the  story 

Of  those  she  sent  forth  in  the  hour  of  her  pride  ? 

For  the  Lord  hath  looked  out  from  His  pillar  of  glory, 

And  all  her  brave  thousands  are  dashed  in  the  tide. 
Sound  the  loud  timbrel  o’er  Egypt’s  dark  sea ! 

Jehovah  has  triumphed !  His  people  are  free  ! 

Thomas  Moore. 


98 


DEBORAH. 


Landelle,  Pi /IX. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


DEBORAH  THE  PROPHETESS. 


HE  Book  of  Judges  is  the  record  of  a  period  which 
may  he  called  the  Dark  Ages  of  the  Jewish  Church, 
even  as  the  mediaeval  days  were  called  the  Dark 
Ages  of  Christianity.  In  both  cases,  a  new  system 
of  purity  and  righteousness,  wholly  in  advance  of  anything 
the  world  had  ever  before  known,  had  been  inaugurated  by  the 
visible  power  of  God,  —  the  system  of  Moses,  and  the  system  of 
Christ.  But  these  pure  systems  seem,  in  each  case,  to  have  been 
allowed  to  struggle  their  own  way  through  the  mass  of  human 
ignorance  and  sin.  The  ideal  policy  of  Moses  was  that  of  an 
ultra-democratic  community,  so  arranged  that  perforce  there 
must  be  liberty,  fraternity,  and  equality.  There  was  uo  chance 
for  overgrown  riches  or  abject  poverty.  Landed  property  was 
equally  divided  in  the  outset,  and  a  homestead  allowed  to  each 
family.  Real  estate  could  not  be  alienated  from  a  family  for 
more  than  a  generation ;  after  that  period,  it  returned  again  to  its 
original  possessor.  The  supreme  law  of  the  land  was  love. 
Love,  first,  to  the  God  and  Father,  the  invisible  head  of  all ;  and 
secondly,  towards  the  neighbor,  whether  a  Jewish  brother  or  a 
foreigner  and  stranger.  The  poor,  the  weak,  the  enslaved,  the 
old,  the  deaf,  the  blind,  were  protected  by  solemn  and  specific 
enactments.  The  person  of  woman  was  hedged  about  by  re¬ 
straints  and  ordinances  which  raised  her  above  the  degradation 
of  sensuality  to  the  honored  position  of  wife  and  mother. 
Motherhood  was  exalted  into  special  honor,  and  named  as 
equal  with  fatherhood  in  the  eye  of  God.  “  \  e  shall  leai 
every  man  his  mother  and  his  father,  and  keep  my  Sabbaths: 
I  am  the  Lord.”  (Lev.  xix.  3.) 

Refinement  of  feeling,  personal  cleanliness,  self-restraint,  ord<  i, 
and  purity  were  taught  by  a  system  of  ordinances  and  obsen- 

99 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

ances,  which  were  intertwined  through  all  the  affairs  of  life,  so 
that  the  Jew  who  lived  up  to  his  law  must  of  necessity  rise  to  a 
noble  manhood.  But  this  system,  so  ideally  perfect,  encountered 
an  age  of  darkness.  Like  all  beautiful  ideals,  the  theocratic  re¬ 
public  of  Moses  suffered  under  the  handling  of  coarse  human 
fingers.  Without  printed  books  or  printing,  or  any  of  the 
thousand  modern  means  of  perpetuating  ideas,  the  Jews  were 
constantly  tempted  to  lapse  into  the  customs  of  the  heathen 
tribes  around.  The  question  whether  Jehovah  or  Baal  were 
God  was  kept  open  for  discussion,  and  sometimes,  for  long 
periods,  idolatry  prevailed.  Then  came  the  subjugation  and 
the  miseries  of  a  foreign  yoke,  and  the  words  of  Moses  were 
fulfilled:  “  Because  thou  servedst  not  the  Lord  thy  God,  with 
joyfulness,  and  with  gladness  of  heart,  for  the  abundance  of 
all  things,  therefore  slialt  thou  serve  the  enemy  whom  the 
Lord  shall  send  against  thee,  in  hunger  and  in  thirst,  and  in 
nakedness,  and  in  want  of  all  things ;  and  he  shall  put  a  yoke 
of  iron  on  thy  neck,  till  he  have  destroyed  thee.” 

The  history  of  the  Jewish  nation,  in  the  Book  of  Judges,  pre¬ 
sents  a  succession  of  these  periods  of  oppression,  and  of  deliver¬ 
ance  by  a  series  of  divinely  inspired  leaders,  sent  in  answer  to 
repentant  prayers.  It  is  entirely  in  keeping  with  the  whole  char¬ 
acter  of  the  Mosaic  institutions,  and  the  customs  of  the  Jewish 
people,  that  one  of  these  inspired  deliverers  should  be  a  woman. 
We  are  not  surprised  at  the  familiar  manner  in  which  it  is  an¬ 
nounced,  as  a  thing  quite  in  the  natural  order,  that  the  chief 
magistrate  of  the  Jewish  nation,  for  the  time  being,  was  a  woman 
divinely  ordained  and  gifted.  Thus  the  story  is  introduced  :  — 

“And  the  children  of  Israel  did  evil  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord 
when  Eliud  was  dead,  and  the  Lord  sold  them  into  the  hands  of 
Jabin,  King  of  Canaan,  that  reigned  in  Hasor,  the  captain  of 
whose  host  was  Sisera,  which  dwelt  in  Harosheth  of  the  Gentiles. 
And  the  children  of  Israel  cried  unto  the  Lord ;  for  he  had  nine 
hundred  chariots  of  iron,  and  twenty  years  he  mightily  oppressed 
the  children  of  Israel.  And  Deborah,  the  prophetess,  the  wife 
of  Lapidoth,  she  judged  Israel  at  that  time.  And  she  dwelt 

under  the  palm-tree  of  Deborah,  between  Kamali  and  Bethel,  in 

100 


DEBORAH  THE  PROPHETESS. 


Mount  Ephraim,  and  the  children  of  Israel  came  up  to  her  for 
judgment.  And  she  sent  and  called  Barak,  the  son  of  Abinoam, 
and  said  unto  him:  Hath  not  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  said,  Go 
draw  towards  Mount  Tabor,  and  take  with  thee  ten  thousand 
men  of  the  children  of  Zebulun  and  the  children  of  Naphtali  ? 
And  I  will  draw  unto  thee,  at  the  river  Kishon,  Sisera,  the  cap¬ 
tain  of  Jabin’s  army,  with  his  chariots  and  his  multitude,  and 
I  will  deliver  him  into  thy  hands.  And  Barak  said  :  If  thou  wilt 
go  with  me,  I  will  go  ;  but  if  thou  wilt  not  go  with  me,  1  will 
not  go.  And  she  said :  I  will  surely  go  with  thee ;  notwith¬ 
standing,  the  journey  that  thou  takest  shall  not  be  for  thine 
honor,  for  the  Lord  shall  sell  Sisera  into  the  hand  of  a  woman.” 

In  all  this  we  have  a  picture  of  the  reverence  and  confi¬ 
dence  with  which,  in  those  days,  the  inspired  woman  was  re¬ 
garded.  The  palm-tree  which  shaded  her  house  becomes  a 
historical  monument,  and  is  spoken  of  as  a  well-known  object. 
The  warlike  leader  of  the  nation  comes  to  her  submissively, 
listens  to  her  message  as  to  a  divine  oracle,  and  obeys.  He 
dares  not  go  up  to  battle  without  her,  but  if  she  will  go  he 
will  follow  her.  The  prophetess  is  a  wife,  but  her  husband  is 
known  to  posterity  only  through  her.  Deborah  was  the  wife 
of  Lapidotli,  and  therefore  Lapidoth  is  had  in  remembrance  even 
down  to  our  nineteenth  century. 

This  class  of  prophetic  and  inspired  women  appear  to  have 
been  the  poets  of  their  time.  They  were,  doubtless,  possessed 
of  that  fine  ethereal  organization,  fit  to  rise  into  the  higher 
regions  of  ecstasy,  wherein  the  most  exalted  impressions  and 
enthusiasms  spring,  as  birds  under  tropic  sunshine.  1  lie  Jew¬ 
ish  woman  was  intensely  patriotic.  She  was  a  living,  breathing 
impersonation  of  the  spirit  of  her  nation;  and  the  hymn  <>t 
victory  chanted  by  Deborah,  after  the  issue  of  the  conflict,  is 
one  of  the  most  spirited  specimens  of  antique  poetry.  In  order 
to  sympathize  with  it  fully,  we  must  think  of  the  condition  of 
woman  in  those  days,  when  under  the  heel  of  the  oppressor. 
The  barriers  and  protections  which  the  laws  of  Moses  threw 
around  the  Jewish  women  inspired  in  them  a  sense  of  self- 

respect  and  personal  dignity  which  rendered  the  brutal  out- 

101 


WOMAN'  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


rages  inflicted  upon  captives  yet  more  intolerable.  The  law 
of  Moses  commanded  the  Jewish  warrior  who  took  a  captive 
woman  to  respect  her  person  and  her  womanhood.  If  he  de¬ 
sired  her,  it  must  be  as  a  lawful  wife ;  and  even  as  a  husband  he 
must  not  force  himself  at  once  upon  her.  He  must  bring  her  to 
his  house,  and  allow  her  a  month  to  reconcile  herself  to  her  cap¬ 
tivity,  before  he  took  her  to  himself.  But  among  the  nations 
around,  woman  was  the  prey  of  whoever  could  seize  and  appro¬ 
priate  her. 

The  killing  of  Sisera  by  Jael  has  been  exclaimed  over  by 
modern  sentimentalists  as  something  very  shocking.  But  let 
us  remember  how  the  civilized  world  felt  when,  not  long  since, 
the  Austrian  tyrant  Heynau  outraged  noble  Hungarian  and 
Italian  women,  subjecting  them  to  brutal  stripes  and  indignities. 
When  the  civilized  world  heard  that  he  had  been  lynched  by  the 
brewers  of  London,  —  cuffed,  and  pommeled,  and  roiled  in  the 
dust,  —  shouts  of  universal  applause  went  up,  and  the  verdict  of 
society  was,  “  Served  him  right.”  Deborah  saw,  in  the  tyrant 
thus  overthrown,  the  ravisher  and  brutal  tyrant  of  helpless 
women,  and  she  extolled  the  spirit  by  which  Jael  had  en¬ 
trapped  the  ferocious  beast,  whom  her  woman’s  weakness  could 
not  otherwise  have  subdued. 

There  is  a  beautiful  commentary  on  the  song  of  Deborah  in 
Herder’s  “  Spirit  of  Hebrew  Poetry.”  He  gives  a  charming 
translation,  to  which  we  refer  any  one  who  wishes  to  study  the 
oldest  poem  by  a  female  author  on  record.  The  verse  ascribed  to 
Miriam  seems  to  have  been  only  the  chorus  of  the  song  of  Moses, 
and,  for  aught  that  appears,  may  have  been  composed  by  him ; 
but  this  song  of  Deborah  is  of  herself  alone.  It  is  one  of  the 
noblest  expressions  of  devout  patriotism  in  literature. 

We  subjoin  a  version  of  this  poem,  in  which  we  have  modi¬ 
fied,  in  accordance  with  Herder,  some  passages  of  our  ordinary 
translation. 

“  Praise  ye  Jehovah  for  the  avenging  of  Israel, 

When  the  people  willingly  offered  themselves. 

Hear,  O  ye  kings  ;  give  ear,  0  ye  princes. 

I  will  sing  praise  to  Jehovah  ; 

I  will  praise  Jehovah,  God  of  Israel. 

102 


DEBORAH  THE  PROPHETESS. 


Jehovah,  when  thou  wentest  out  from  Seir, 
When  thou  marchedst  from  Edom, 

The  earth  trembled  and  the  heavens  dropped, 
The  clouds  also  poured  down  water.” 


The  song  now  changes,  to  picture  the  miseries  of  an  enslaved 
people,  who  were  deprived  of  arms  and  weapons,  and  exposed 
at  any  hour  and  moment  to  the  incursions  of  robbers  and 
murderers :  — 

“  In  the  days  of  Shamgar,  the  son  of  Anath, 

In  the  days  of  Jael, 

The  highways  were  unoccupied, 

And  travelers  walked  through  hy-ways. 

The  inhabitants  ceased  from  the  villages, 

Till  I,  Deborah,  arose. 

I  arose  a  mother  in  Israel. 

They  went  after  strange  gods ; 

Then  came  the  war  to  their  gates. 

Was  there  then  a  shield  or  a  spear 
Among  forty  thousand  in  Israel  ?  ” 

The  theme  then  changes,  to  celebrate  those  whose  patriotic 
bravery  had  redeemed  their  country :  — 

“  My  heart  throbs  to  the  governors  of  Israel 
That  offered  themselves  willingly  among  the  people. 

Bless  ye  Jehovah  ! 

Speak,  ye  that  ride  on  white  asses, 

Ye  that  sit  in  judgment,  and  ye  that  walk  by  the  way, 

They  that  are  delivered  from  the  noise  of  archers 
In  the  place  of  drawing  water, 

There  shall  they  rehearse  the  righteous  acts  of  Jehovah, 

His  righteous  acts  towards  the  inhabitants  of  the  villages. 

Then  shall  the  people  go  down  to  the  gates. 

Awake  !  awake  !  Deborah, 

Awake  !  awake  !  utter  a  song  ! 

Arise,  Barak,  and  lead  captivity  captive, 

Thou  son  of  Abinoam  !  ” 

After  this,  another  change:  she  reviews,  with  all  a  womans 
fiery  eloquence,  the  course  which  the  tribes  have  taken  in  the 
contest,  giving  praise  to  the  few  courageous,  self-sacrificing 
patriots,  and  casting  arrows  of  satire  and  scorn  on  the  cowardly 
and  selfish.  For  then,  as  in  our  modern  times,  there  were  all 

sorts  of  men.  There  were  those  of  the  brave,  imprudent,  gen- 

103 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 

erous,  “  do-or-die  ”  stamp,  and  there  were  the  selfish  conser¬ 
vatives,  who  only  waited  and  talked.  So  she  says :  — 

“  It  was  but  a  small  remnant  that  went  forth  against  the  mighty. 

The  people  of  Jehovah  went  with  me  against  the  mighty. 

The  march  began  with  Ephraim, 

The  root  of  the  army  was  from  him  ; 

With  him  didst  thou  come,  Benjamin! 

Out  of  Machir  came  down  the  leaders  ; 

Out  of  Zebulun  the  marshals  of  forces  ; 

And  the  princes  of  Issachar  were  with  Deborah. 

Issachar,  the  life-guard  of  Barak, 

Sprang  like  a  hind  into  the  battle-field  !  ” 

It  appears  that  the  tribe  of  Reuben  bad  only  been  roused 
so  far  as  to  talk  about  the  matter.  They  had  been  brought  up 
to  the  point  of  an  animated  discussion  whether  they  should  help 
or  not.  The  poetess  thus  jeers  at  them :  — 

“  By  the  brooks  of  Reuben  there  were  great  talkings  and  inquiries. 

Why  abodest  thou  in  thy  sheepfolds,  Reuben  ? 

Was  it  to  hear  the  bleating  of  the  flocks  1 

By  the  brooks  of  Reuben  were  great  talks  [but  nothing  more], 

Gilead,  too,  abode  beyond  Jordan  ; 

And  why  did  Dan  remain  in  his  ships  1 

Asher  stayed  on  the  sea-shore  and  remained  in  his  harbor. 

Zebulun  and  Naphtali  risked  their  lives  unto  the  death 
In  the  high  places  of  the  field  of  battle.” 

Now  comes  the  description  of  the  battle.  It  appears  that  a 
sudden  and  violent  rain-storm  and  an  inundation  helped  to  rout 
the  enem}^  and  gain  the  victory ;  and  the  poetess  breaks  forth :  — 

“  The  kings  came  and  fought ; 

The  kings  of  Canaan  in  Taanach,  by  the  waters  of  Megiddo  ; 

They  brought  away  no  treasure. 

They  fought ;  from  heaven  the  stars  in  their  courses 
They  fought  against  Sisera. 

The  river  Kishon  swept  them  down, 

That  ancient  river,  Kishon. 

O  my  soul !  walk  forth  with  strength  ! 

Then  was  the  rattling  of  hoofs  of  horses  ! 

They  rushed  back,  —  the  horses  of  the  mighty.” 

And  now  the  solemn  sound  of  a  prophetic  curse :  — 

“  Curse  ye  Meroz,  saith  the  angel  of  Jehovah, 

Curse  ye  bitterly  the  inhabitants  thereof, 

104 


DEBORAH  TIIE  PROPHETESS. 


Because  they  came  not  to  the  help  of  Jehovah, 

To  the  help  of  Jehovah  against  the  mighty  !  ” 

Then  follows  a  burst  of  blessing  on  the  woman  who  had  slain 
the  oppressor ;  in  which  we  must  remember,  it  is  a  woman  driven 
to  the  last  extreme  of  indignation  at  outrages  practiced  on  her 
sex  that  thus  rejoices.  When  the  tiger  who  has  slain  help¬ 
less  women  and  children  is  tracked  to  his  lair,  snared,  and 
caught,  a  shout  of  exultation  goes  up ;  and  there  are  men  so 
cruel  and  brutal  that  even  humanity  rejoices  in  their  destruction. 
There  is  something  repulsive  in  the  thought  of  the  artifice  and 
treachery  that  beguiled  and  betrayed  the  brigand  chief.  But 
woman  cannot  meet  her  destroyer  in  open,  hand-to-hand  conflict. 
She  is  thrown  perforce  on  the  weapons  of  physical  weakness; 
and  Deborah  exults  in  the  success  of  the  artifice  with  all  the 
warmth  of  her  indignant  soul. 

“  Blessed  above  women  be  Jael,  the  wife  of  Heber  the  Kenite  ! 

Blessed  shall  she  be  above  women  in  the  tent ! 

He  asked  water  and  she  gave  him  milk  ; 

She  brought  forth  butter  in  a  lordly  dish. 

She  put  her  hand  to  the  nail, 

Her  right  hand  to  the  workman’s  hammer. 

With  the  hammer  she  smote  Sisera, 

She  smote  off  his  head. 

When  she  had  stricken  through  his  temple, 

At  her  feet  he  bowed,  he  fell,  he  lay  prostrate. 

At  her  feet  he  bowed,  he  fell. 

Where  he  bowed,  there  he  fell  down  dead  !  ” 

The  outrages  on  wives,  mothers,  and  little  children,  during 
twenty  years  of  oppression,  gives  energy  to  this  blessing  on 
the  woman  who  dared  to  deliver. 

By  an  exquisite  touch  of  the  poetess,  we  are  reminded  what 
must  have  been  the  fate  of  all  Judaean  women  except  fin  this 
nail  of  Jael. 

“  The  mother  of  Sisera  looked  out  at  a  window. 

She  cried  through  the  lattice, 

Why  delay  the  wheels  of  his  chariot  ? 

Why  tarries  the  rattle  of  his  horse-hoofs  ? 

Her  wise  ladies  answered  :  yea,  she  spake  herself. 

Have  they  not  won  1  Have  they  not  divided  the  prey 
To  every  man  a  virgin  or  two  ; 

105 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HIS  TOBY. 


To  Sisera  a  prey  of  divers  colors,  of  divers  colors  and  gold  embroidery, 

Meet  for  the  necks  of  them  that  take  the  spoil.” 

In  the  reckoning  of  this  haughty  princess,  a  noble  Judaean 
lady,  with  her  gold  embroideries  and  raiment  of  needle-work, 
is  only  an  ornament  meet  for  the  neck  of  the  conqueror,  —  a 
toy,  to  be  paraded  in  triumph.  The  song  now  rises  with  one 
grand,  solemn  swell,  like  the  roll  of  waves  on  the  sea-shore :  — 

“  So  let  all  thine  enemies  perish,  0  Jehovah  ! 

But  let  them  that  love  thee  shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  his  strength.” 

And  as  this  song  dies  away,  so  passes  all  mention  of  Deborah. 
No  other  fragment  of  poetry  or  song  from  her  has  come  down 
from  her  age  to  us.  This  one  song,  like  a  rare  fragment  of  some 
deep-sea  flower,  broken  off  by  a  storm  of  waters,  has  floated  up 
to  tell  of  her.  We  shall  see,  as  we  follow  down  the  line  of 
history,  that  women  of  this  lofty  poetic  inspiration  were  the 
natural  product  of  the  Jewish  laws  and  institutions.  They  grew 
out  of  them,  as  certain  flowers  grow  out  of  certain  soils.  To 
this  class  belonged  Hannah,  the  mother  of  Samuel,  and  Huldah, 
the  prophetess,  and,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  Mary,  the  mother 
of  Jesus,  whose  Magnificat  was  the  earliest  flower  of  the 
Christian  era.  Mary  was  prophetess  and  poet,  the  last  and 
greatest  of  a  long  and  noble  line  of  women,  in  whom  the  finer 
feminine  nature  had  been  kindled  into  a  divine  medium  of  in¬ 
spiration,  and  burst  forth  in  poetry  and  song  as  in  a  natural 
language. 


106 


THE  BATTLE  OF  JEZREEL. 


where  of  old  the  giant  kings 
ight  by  Megiddo’s  water-springs, 
l  where  the  lords  of  Issachar 
Came  marching  to  the  mountain  war : 

There  now  the  quivered  Ephraimite 
O’er  Tabor  led  his  conquering  might ; 

And,  showering  thick  their  shafts  of  flame, 
Gilboa’s  sinewy  archers  came ; 

While,  wearing  each  his  regal  crown, 

Rode  the  great  chiefs  of  Machir  down, 
Whose  ancient  patriarchal  sway 
The  distant  eastern  hills  obey. 

Ah !  why  did  Gilead  then  abide 
Far  off,  by  Jordan’s  peaceful  side  ? 

And  wherefore  seaward  Asher  lay 
Supinely  by  his  sheltered  bay  ? 

What  power  malign  could  Reuben  hold, 

To  dwell  the  while  by  field  and  fold  ? 

What  from  the  war  could  him  detain 
Where  shepherds  roam  the  tented  plain, 
And,  crowned  with  autumn’s  tawny  leaf, 

The  sun-brown  reaper  binds  the  sheaf ; 
Where  the  herd’s  lordly  monarch  wades 
Through  Bashan’s  richly  pastured  glades, 

Or  stoops  his  shaggy  brows  to  lave 
In  fords  of  Arnon’s  mountain  wave  ? 

But  where  is  he,  whose  trumpet  shrill 
Shook  the  deep  caves  of  Tabor’s  hill, — 

To  hail  whose  home-returning  car, 

E’en  now  Harosheth  looks  afar  ? 

From  many  a  tower  and  battlement 
Far-off,  unnumbered  eyes  are  bent, 

107 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 

With  eager  joj  and  greed,  to  see 
Those  treasures  of  captivity, 

Chained  at  his  wheels,  a  weeping  band, 
Judaea’s  dark-eyed  daughters  stand. 


Watchman,  on  yon  turret  high ! 
Saw  you,  down  the  tented  sky, 
O’er  the  length’ning  file’s  array, 

His  victorious  banners  play  ? 
Marked  you,  to  the  sunny  beam 
Burnished  targe  and  helmet  gleam, 
And  the  snaffled  steeds  afar 
Bearing  the  refulgent  car  ? 

Heard  you  yet  the  people’s  cry, 

Or  the  cymbal’s  clash  of  joy  ? 

Save  him,  blood-stained  idols  grim, 
Ashtaroth  and  Baalim  ! 


Alas  !  long  through  the  latticed  gate, 

For  him  shall  Syrian  maidens  wait ; 

For  far  away,  their  warrior  bold 
At  Jael’s  feet  lies  stark  and  cold. 

And  Canaan’s  prancing  hoofs  in  vain 
Have  tinted  Taanach’s  thirsty  plain  : 

Low  sank  to  earth  the  bounding  steed 
That  fed  by  Tigris’  flowery  mead ; 

Or,  fleeter  than  the  falcon’s  wing, 

Scarce  shook  Orontes’  crystal  spring. 

Beneath  old  Kishon’s  trampling  waves, 

Dark  Hazor’s  archers  found  their  graves. 

Lift,  Deborah,  lift  thy  song,  and  cry, 

“  The  Lord  has  triumphed  gloriously  !  ” 

Rev.  John  Mitford  {adapted). 


108 


• 

nn 

DELILAH. 


Baader,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


/ 


DELILAH  THE  DESTROYER. 


||j||jjgHE  pictures  of  womanhood  in  the  Bible  are  not  con- 
"  fined  to  subjects  of  the  better  class. 

There  is  always  a  shadow  to  light ;  and  shadows  are 
deep,  intense,  in  proportion  as  light  is  vivid.  There  is 
in  bad  women  a  terrible  energy  of  evil  which  lies  over  against 
the  angelic  and  prophetic  power  given  to  them,  as  Hell  against 
Heaven. 


In  the  long  struggles  of  the  Divine  Lawgiver  with  the  idol¬ 
atrous  tendencies  of  man,  the  evil  as  well  as  the  good  influence  of 
woman  is  recognized.  There  are  a  few  representations  of  loath¬ 
some  vice  and  impurity  left  in  the  sacred  records,  to  show  how 
utterly  and  hopelessly  corrupt  the  nations  had  become  whom 
the  Jews  were  commanded  to  exterminate.  Incurable  licentious¬ 
ness  and  unnatural  vice  had  destroyed  the  family  state,  trans¬ 
formed  religious  services  into  orgies  of  lust,  and  made  woman 
a  corrupter,  instead  of  a  saviour.  The  idolatrous  temples  and 
groves  and  high  places  against  which  the  prophets  continually 
thunder  were  scenes  of  abominable  vice  and  demoralization. 

No  danger  of  the  Jewish  race  is  more  insisted  on  in  sacred 
history  and  literature  than  the  bad  power  of  bad  women,  and  the 
weakness  of  men  in  their  hands.  Whenever  idolatry  is  intro¬ 
duced  among  them  it  is  always  largely  owing  to  the  arts  and 
devices  of  heathen  women. 

The  story  of  Samson  seems  to  have  been  specially  arranged 
as  a  warning  in  this  regard.  It  is  a  picture  drawn  in  such  exag¬ 
gerated  colors  and  proportions  that  it  might  strike  the  lowest 
mind  and  be  understood  by  the  dullest.  As  we  have  spoken  ot 
the  period  of  the  Judges  as  corresponding  to  the  Dark  Ages  of 
Christianity,  so  the  story  of  Samson  corresponds  in  some  points 
with  the  mediaeval  history  of  St.  Christopher.  In  both  is  pro- 

109 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

sented  the  idea  of  a  rugged  animal  nature,  the  impersonation 
of  physical  strength,  without  much  moral  element,  hut  seized 
on  and  used  by  a  divine  impulse  for  a  beneficent  purpose. 
Samson  had  strength,  and  he  used  it  to  keep  alive  this  sacerdotal 
nation,  this  race  from  whom  were  to  spring  the  future  apostles 
and  prophets  and  teachers  of  our  Christianity. 

Like  some  unknown  plant  of  rare  flower  and  fruit,  cast  out  to 
struggle  in  ungenial  soil,  nipped,  stunted,  browsed  down  by 
cattle,  trodden  down  by  wild  beasts,  the  Jewish  race,  in  the 
times  of  the  Book  of  Judges  showed  no  capability  of  producing 
such  men  as  Isaiah  and  Paul  and  John,  much  less  Jesus.  Yet, 
humanly  speaking,  in  this  stock,  now  struggling  for  bare  national 
existence,  and  constantly  in  danger  of  being  trampled  out,  was 
contained  the  capacity  of  unfolding,  through  Divine  culture, 
such  heavenly  blossoms  as  Jesus  and  his  apostles. 

In  fact,  then,  the  Christian  religion,  with  all  its  possibilities  of 
hope  and  happiness  for  the  human  race,  lay  at  this  period  germi- 
nant,  in  seed  form,  in  a  crushed  and  struggling  race.  Hence  the 
history  of  Samson ;  hence  the  reason  why  he  who  possessed 
scarcely  a  moral  element  of  character  is  spoken  of  as  under  the 
guidance  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.  A  blind  impulse  inspired 
him  to  fight  for  the  protection  of  his  nation  against  the  barbarous 
tribes  that  threatened  their  destruction,  and  with  this  impulse 
came  rushing  floods  of  preternatural  strength.  With  the  history 
of  this  inspired  giant  is  entwined  that  of  a  woman  whose  name 
has  come  to  stand  as  a  generic  term  for  a  class,  —  Delilah  !  It  is 
astonishing  with  what  wonderful  dramatic  vigor  a  few  verses 
create  before  us  this  woman  so  vividly  and  so  perfectly  that  she 
has  been  recognized  from  age  to  age. 

Delilah !  not  the  frail  sinner  falling  through  too  much  love ; 
not  the  weak,  downtrodden  woman,  the  prey  of  man’s  superior 
force ;  but  the  terrible  creature,  artful  and  powerful,  who  triumphs 
over  man,  and  uses  man’s  passions  for  her  own  ends,  without  an 
answering  throb  of  passion.  As  the  strength  of  Samson  lies  in 
his  hair,  so  the  strength  of  Delilah  lies  in  her  hardness  of  heart. 
If  she  could  love,  her  power  would  depart  from  her.  Love 

brings  weakness  and  tears  that  make  the  hand  tremble  and  the 

no 


DELILAH  THE  DESTROYED. 


eye  dim.  But  she  who  cannot  love  is  guarded  at  all  points; 
her  hand  never  trembles,  and  no  soft,  fond  weakness  dims 
her  eye  so  that  she  cannot  see  the  exact  spot  where  to  strike. 
Delilah  has  her  wants,  —  she  wants  money,  she  wants  power,  — 
and  men  are  her  instruments ;  she  will  make  them  her  slaves  to 
do  her  pleasure. 

Samson,  like  the  great  class  of  men  in  whom  physical 
strength  predominates,  appears  to  have  been  constitutionally 
good-natured  and  persuadable,  with  a  heart  particularly  soft 
towards  woman.  He  first  falls  in  love  with  a  Philistine 
woman  whom  he  sees,  surrendering  almost  without  parley. 
His  love  is  animal  passion,  with  good-natured  softness  of 
temper ;  it  is  inconsiderate,  insisting  on  immediate  gratifica¬ 
tion.  Though  a  Nazarite,  vowed  to  the  service  of  the  Lord, 
yet  happening  to  see  this  woman,  he  says  forthwith :  “I  have 
seen  a  woman  in  Timnath,  of  the  daughters  of  the  Philistines ; 
therefore  get  her  for  me  for  a  wife.  Then  said  his  father  and 
his  mother,  Is  there  never  a  woman  of  the  daughters  of  thy 
people,  that  thou  goest  to  take  a  Philistine  woman  to  wife  ? 
But  he  said,  Get  her  for  me ;  for  she  pleaseth  me  well.” 

She  is  got;  and  then  we  find  the  strong  man,  through  his 
passion  for  her,  becoming  the  victim  of  the  Philistines.  He 
puts  out  a  riddle  for  them  to  guess.  “  And  they  said  to  Sam¬ 
son’s  wife,  Entice  thy  husband  that  he  may  declare  unto  us 
the  riddle.  And  Samson’s  wife  wept  before  him,  and  said, 
Thou  dost  but  hate  me,  and  lovest  me  not:  thou  hast  put 
forth  a  riddle  unto  the  children  of  my  people  and  hast  not 
told  me.  And  she  wept  before  him  seven  days,  and  on  the 
seventh  day  he  told  her.”  A  picture  this  ol  what  lias  been 
done  in  kings’  palaces  and  poor  men’s  hovels  ever  since, 
man’s  strength  was  overcome  and  made  the  tool  ol  womans 
weakness. 

We  have  now  a  record  of  the  way  this  wife  was  taken  horn 
him,  and  of  the  war  he  declared  against  the  Philistines,  and 
of  exploits  which  caused  him  to  be  regarded  as  the  champion 
of  his  nation  by  the  Hebrews,  and  as  a  terror  by  his  enemii\-. 
He  holds  them  in  check,  and  defends  his  people,  through  a 

in 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


course  of  years  ;  and  could  he  have  ruled  his  own  passions, 
he  might  have  died  victorious.  The  charms  of  a  Philistine 
woman  were  stronger  over  the  strong  man  than  all  the  spears 
or  swords  of  his  enemies. 

The  rest  of  the  story  reads  like  an  allegory,  so  exactly  does  it 
describe  that  unworthy  subservience  of  man  to  his  own  passions, 
wherein  bad  women  in  all  ages  have  fastened  poisonous  roots 
of  power.  The  man  is  deceived  and  betrayed,  with  his  eyes 
open,  by  a  woman  whom  he  does  not  respect,  and  who  he  can 
see  is  betraying  him.  The  story  is  for  all  time.  The  temptress 
says :  “  How  canst  thou  say,  I  love  thee,  when  thy  heart  is  not 
with  me  ?  Thou  hast  mocked  me  these  three  times,  and  hast 
not  told  me  wherein  thy  great  strength  lieth.  And  it  came 
to  pass  when  she  pressed  him  daily  with  her  words,  and 
urged  him  so  that  his  soul  was  vexed  to  death,  that  he  told 
her  all  his  heart.”  Then  Delilah  runs  at  once  to  her  em¬ 
ployers.  “  She  sent  and  called  the  lords  of  the  Philistines, 
saying,  Come  up  this  once,  he  hath  told  me  all  his  heart. 
And  she  made  him  sleep  upon  her  knees ;  and  called  for  a 
man,  and  bade  him  shave  off  the  seven  locks,  and  his  strength 
went  from  him.  And  she  said,  The  Philistines  be  upon  thee, 
Samson,  and  he  awoke  and  said,  I  will  go  out  and  shake  my¬ 
self,  as  at  other  times,  and  he  wist  not  that  the  Lord  was  de¬ 
parted  from  him.  But  the  Philistines  took  him,  and  put  on 
him  fetters  of  brass,  and  he  did  grind  in  their  prison  house.” 

Thus  ignobly  ends  the  career  of  a  deliverer  whose  birth 
was  promised  to  his  parents  by  an  angel,  who  was  vowed  to 
God,  and  had  the  gift  of  strength  to  redeem  a  nation.  Under 
the  wiles  of  an  evil  woman  he  lost  all,  and  sunk  lower  than 
any  slave  into  irredeemable  servitude. 

The  legends  of  ancient  history  have  their  parallels.  Her¬ 
cules,  the  deliverer,  made  the  scoff  and  slave  of  Omphale,  and 
Antony,  become  the  tool  and  scorn  of  Cleopatra,  are  but  repe¬ 
titions  of  the  same  story.  Samson  victorious,  all-powerful, 
carrying  the  gates  of  Gaza  on  his  back,  the  hope  of  his 
countrymen  and  the  terror  of  his  enemies  ;  and  Samson  shorn, 

degraded,  bound,  eyeless,  grinding  in  the  prison-house  of  those 

112 


DELILAH  TIIE  DESTROYER. 


he  might  have  subdued,  —  such  was  the  lesson  given  to  the 
Jews  of  the  power  of  the  evil  woman.  And  the  story  which 
has  repeated  itself  from  age  to  age,  is  repeating  itself  to-day. 
There  are  women  on  whose  knees  men  sleep,  to  awaken  shorn 
of  manliness,  to  be  seized,  hound,  blinded,  and  made  to  grind 
in  unmanly  servitude  forever. 

“  She  hath  cast  down  many  wounded, 

Y ea,  many  strong  men  hath  she  slain  ; 

Her  house  is  the  way  to  Hell, 

Going  down  to  the  chambers  of  Death.” 

113 


SAMSON  IN  THE  PHILISTINE  PRISON. 


[Samson,  blind  and  in 


chains,  sits,  with  an  Attendant,  in  the  open  air. 
his  aged  father.] 


Enter  Manoah, 


Manoah. 

MISERABLE  change  !  is  this  the  man, 

That  invincible  Samson,  far  renowned, 

The  dread  of  Israel’s  foes,  who  with  a  strength 
Equivalent  to  angels  walked  their  streets, 

None  offering  fight ;  who  single  combatant 
Dueled  their  armies  ranked  in  proud  array, 

Himself  an  army,  now  unequal  match 
To  save  himself  against  a  coward  armed 
At  one  spear’s  length  ?  0  ever-failing  trust 

In  mortal  strength  !  and  0,  what  not  in  man 
Deceivable  and  vain  ?  Nay,  what  thing  good 
Prayed  for,  but  often  proves  our  woe,  our  bane  ? 

I  prayed  for  children,  and  thought  barrenness 
In  wedlock  a  reproach  ;  I  gained  a  son, 

And  such  a  son  as  all  men  hailed  me  happy ; 

Who  would  be  now  a  father  in  my  stead  ? 

0  wherefore  did  God  grant  me  my  request, 

And  as  a  blessing  with  such  pomp  adorned  ? 

Why  are  his  gifts  desirable,  to  tempt 

Our  earnest  prayers,  then,  given  with  solemn  hand 

As  graces,  draw  a  scorpion’s  tail  behind  ? 

For  this,  did  the  angel  twice  descend  ? 

For  this  ordained  thy  nurture  holy,  as  of  a  plant 
Select,  and  sacred,  glorious  for  a  while, 

The  miracle  of  men ;  then  in  an  hour 
Ensnared,  assaulted,  overcome,  led  bound, 

Thy  foe’s  derision,  captive,  poor,  and  blind, 

Into  a  dungeon  thrust,  to  work  with  slaves  ? 

114 


SAMS  ON  IN  THE  PHILISTINE  PHIS  ON. 


Samson. 

Nothing  of  all  these  evils  hath  befallen  me 
But  justly ;  I  myself  have  brought  them  on, 

Sole  author  I,  sole  cause  ;  if  aught  seem  vile, 

As  vile  hath  been  my  folly,  who  have  profaned 
The  mystery  of  God  given  me  under  pledge 
Of  vow,  and  have  betrayed  it  to  a  woman, 

A  Canaanite,  my  faithless  enemy. 

0  indignity,  0  blot 
To  honor  and  religion  !  servile  mind 
Rewarded  well  with  servile  punishment ! 

The  base  degree  to  which  I  now  am  fallen, 

These  rags,  this  grinding,  is  not  yet  so  base 
As  was  my  former  servitude  ignoble, 

Unmanly,  ignominious,  infamous, 

True  slavery  ;  and  that  blindness  worse  than  this, 

That  saw  not  how  degenerately  1  served. 

Manoah.* 

But  who  is  this  ?  what  thing  of  sea  or  land  ? 

Female  of  sex  it  seems, 

That  so  bedecked,  ornate,  and  gay, 

Comes  this  way  sailing, 

Like  a  stately  ship 
Of  Tarsus,  bound  for  the  isles 
Of  Javan  or  Gadire, 

With  all  her  bravery  on,  and  tackle  trim, 

Sails  filled,  and  streamers  waving, 

Courted  by  all  the  winds,  that  hold  them  play, 

An  amber  scent  of  odorous  perfume 
Her  harbinger,  a  damsel  train  behind  ! 

Some  rich  Philistian  matron  she  may  seem  ; 

And  now  at  nearer  view,  no  other  certain 
Than  Dalila  thy  wife. 

Samson. 

My  wife  !  my  traitress  !  let  her  not  come  near  me  ! 

*  In  the  original  poem,  this  and  the  next  following  speech  of  Manoah  belong  to  the 
Chorus  of  Samson's  friends. 


WOMAN-  IX  SACBED  HIS  TO  BY. 


Manoah. 

Yet  on  she  moves,  now  stands  and  eyes  thee  fixed, 
About  to  have  spoke  ;  but  now,  with  head  deelined, 
Like  a  fair  flower  surcharged  with  dew,  she  weeps, 
And  words  addressed  seem  into  tears  dissolved, 
Wetting  the  borders  of  her  silken  veil : 

But  now  again  she  makes  address  to  speak. 


Enter  Dalila.* 

Dalila. 

With  doubtful  feet  and  wavering  resolution 
I  came,  still  dreading  thy  displeasure,  Samson, 

Which  to  have  merited,  without  excuse, 

I  cannot  but  acknowledge  ;  yet,  if  tears 
May  expiate  (though  the  fact  more  evil  drew 
In  the  perverse  event  than  I  foresaw), 

My  penance  hath  not  slackened,  though  my  pardon 
No  way  assured.  But  conjugal  affection, 

Prevailing  over  fear  and  timorous  doubt, 

Hath  led  me  on,  desirous  to  behold 

Once  more  thy  face,  and  know  of  thy  estate, 

If  aught  in  my  ability  may  serve 
To  lighten  what  thou  sufferest,  and  appease 
Thy  mind  with  what  amends  is  in  my  power, 

Though  late,  yet  in  some  part  to  recompense 
My  rash,  but  more  unfortunate  misdeed. 

Samson. 

Out,  out,  hyena  !  these  are  thy  wonted  arts, 

And  arts  of  every  woman  false  like  thee, 

To  break  all  faith,  all  vows,  deceive,  betray, 

Then  as  repentant  to  submit,  beseech, 

*  Milton  adopts  the  orthography  of  this  name  as  given  in  the  Greek  of  Josephus,  Dalila, 
and  the  verse  requires  that  it  should  be  so  pronounced. 

“  The  Septuaginal  version  calls  her  Dalida.  She  is  here  regarded  as  the  wife  of  Samson, 
a  theory  for  several  reasons  improbable.” 

116 


SAMSON  IN  THE  PHILISTINE  PRISON. 

And  reconcilement  move  with  feigned  remorse, 
Confess,  and  promise  wonders  in  her  change  ; 

Not  truly  penitent,  but  chief  to  try 

Her  husband,  how  far  urged  his  patience  bears, 

His  virtue  or  weakness  which  way  to  assail : 

Then  with  more  cautious  and  instructed  skill 
Again  transgresses,  and  again  submits. 

Dalila. 

And  what  if  love,  which  thou  interpretest  hate, 

The  jealousy  of  love,  powerful  of  sway 
In  human  hearts,  nor  less  in  mine  towards  thee, 
Caused  what  I  did  ?  I  saw  thee  mutable 
Of  fancy,  feared  lest  one  day  thou  wouldst  leave  me 
As  her  at  Timna,  sought  by  all  means  therefore 
How  to  endure,  and  hold  thee  to  me  firmest : 

No  better  way  I  saw  than  by  importuning 

To  learn  thy  secrets,  get  into  my  power 

Thy  key  of  strength  and  safety.  Thou  wilt  say, 

Why  then  revealed  ?  I  was  assured  by  those 
Who  tempted  me,  that  nothing  was  designed 
Against  tlice  but  safe  custody  and  hold  : 

That  made  for  me  ;  I  knew  that  liberty 
Would  draw  thee  forth  to  perilous  enterprises, 

While  I  at  home  sat  full  of  cares  and  fears, 

Wailing  thy  absence  in  my  widowed  bed  ; 

Here  I  should  still  enjoy  thee,  day  and  night, 

Mine  and  love’s  prisoner,  not  the  Philistines’, 

Whole  to  myself,  unhazarded  abroad, 

Fearless  at  home  of  partners  in  my  love. 

Samson. 

Weakness  is  thy  excuse, 

And  I  believe  it ;  weakness  to  resist 
Philistian  gold  :  if  weakness  may  excuse, 

What  murderer,  what  traitor,  parricide, 

Incestuous,  sacrilegious,  but  may  plead  it  ( 

All  wickedness  is  weakness :  that  plea  therefore 
With  God  or  man  will  gain  thee  no  remission. 

But  love  constrained  thee  ;  love  seeks  to  have  love : 


WOMAN  m  S ACHED  Ills  TORY. 

My  love  how  couldst  thou  hope,  who  tookest  the  way 
To  raise  in  me  inexpiable  hate, 

Knowing,  as  needs  I  must,  by  thee  betrayed  ? 

In  vain  thou  strivest  to  cover  shame  with  shame, 

Or  by  evasions  thy  crime  uncoverest  more. 

Dalila. 

Since  thou  determinest  weakness  for  no  plea 
In  man  or  woman,  though  to  thy  own  condemning, 
Hear  what  assaults  I  had,  what  snares  besides, 

What  sieges  girt  me  round,  ere  I  consented  ; 

Which  might  have  awed  the  best-resolved  of  men, 

The  constantest,  to  have  yielded  without  blame. 

It  was  not  gold,  as  to  my  charge  thou  layest, 

That  wrought  with  me  :  thou  knowest  the  magistrates 
And  princes  of  my  country  came  in  person, 

Solicited,  commanded,  threatened,  urged, 

Adjured  by  all  the  bonds  of  civil  duty 
And  of  religion,  pressed  how  just  it  was, 

How  honorable,  how  glorious,  to  entrap 
A  common  enemy,  who  had  destroyed 
Such  numbers  of  our  nation  :  and  the  priest 
Was  not  behind,  but  ever  at  my  ear 
Preaching  how  meritorious  with  the  gods 
It  would  be  to  ensnare  an  irreligious 
Dishonorer  of  Dagon  :  what  had  I 
To  oppose  against  such  powerful  arguments  ? 

Only  my  love  of  thee  held  long  debate, 

And  combated  in  silence  all  these  reasons 

With  hard  contest :  at  length  that  grounded  maxim 

So  rife  and  celebrated  in  the  mouths 

Of  wisest  men,  that  to  the  public  good 

Private  respects  must  yield,  with  grave  authority, 

Took  full  possession  of  me,  and  prevailed  ; 

Virtue,  as  I  thought,  truth,  duty,  so  enjoining. 

Samson. 

I  thought  where  all  thy  circling  wiles  would  end  ; 

In  feigned  religion,  smooth  hypocrisy  ! 

But  had  thy  love,  still  odiously  pretended, 

118 


SAMSON  IN  THE  PHILISTINE  PRISON. 


Been,  as  it  ought,  sincere,  it  would  have  taught  thee 
Far  other  reasonings,  brought  forth  other  deeds. 

I,  before  all  the  daughters  of  my  tribe 
And  of  my  nation,  chose  thee  from  among 
My  enemies,  loved  thee,  as  too  well  thou  knewest ; 
Too  well  ;  unbosomed  all  my  secrets  to  thee, 

Not  out  of  levity,  but  overpowered 

By  thy  request,  who  could  deny  thee  nothing ; 

Yet  now  am  judged  an  enemy.  Why  then 
Didst  thou  at  first  receive  me  for  thy  husband, 

Then,  as  since  then,  thy  country’s  foe  professed  ? 
Being  once  a  wife,  for  me  thou  wast  to  leave 
Parents  and  country  ;  nor  was  I  their  subject ; 

Nor  under  their  protection,  but  my  own, 

Thou  mine,  not  theirs  :  if  aught  against  my  life 
Thy  country  sought  of  thee,  it  sought  unjustly, 
Against  the  law  of  nature,  law  of  nations. 

These  false  pretexts,  and  varnished  colors,  failing, 
Bare  in  thy  guilt,  how  foul  must  thou  appear ! 

Dalila. 

In  argument  with  men  a  woman  ever 
Goes  by  the  worse,  whatever  be  her  cause. 

Samson. 

For  want  of  words,  no  doubt,  or  lack  of  breath  ; 
Witness  when  I  was  worried  with  thy  peals. 

Dalila. 

I  was  a  fool,  too  rash,  and  quite  mistaken 
In  what  I  thought  would  have  succeeded  best. 

Let  me  obtain  forgiveness  of  thee,  Samson  : 

Afford  me  place  to  show  what  recompense 
Towards  thee  I  intend  for  what  I  have  misdone, 
Misguided  ;  only  what  remains  past  cure 
Bear  not  too  sensibly,  nor  still  insist 
To  afflict  thyself  in  vain  :  though  sight  be  lost. 

Life  yet  hath  many  solaces,  enjoyed 
Where  other  senses  want  not  their  delights, 

119 


WOMAN  IJY  S ACRED  HISTORY. 

At  home  in  leisure  and  domestic  ease, 

Exempt  from  many  a  care  and  chance,  to  which 
Eyesight  exposes  daily  men  abroad. 

1  to  the  lords  will  intercede,  not  doubting 
Their  favorable  ear,  that  I  may  fetch  thee 
From  forth  this  loathsome  prison-house  to  abide 
With  me,  where  my  redoubled  love  and  care 
With  nursing  diligence,  to  me  glad  office, 

May  ever  tend  about  thee  to  old  age, 

With  all  things  grateful  cheered,  and  so  supplied, 

That,  what  by  me  thou  hast  lost,  thou  least  shalt  miss. 

Samson. 

No,  no  ;  of  my  condition  take  no  care  ; 

It  fits  not ;  thou  aud  I  long  since  are  twain  : 

Nor  think  me  so  unwary  or  accursed, 

To  bring  my  feet  again  into  the  snare 

Where  once  I  have  been  caught :  I  know  thy  trains, 

Though  dearly  to  my  cost,  thy  gins,  and  toils  ; 

Thy  fair  enchanted  cup,  and  warbling  charms, 

No  more  on  me  have  power ;  their  force  is  nulled  ; 

So  much  of  adder’s  wisdom  I  have  learned, 

To  fence  my  ear  against  thy  sorceries. 

If  in  my  flower  of  youth  and  strength,  when  all  men 
Loved,  honored,  feared  me,  thou  alone  couldst  hate  me, 
Thy  husband,  slight  me,  sell  me,  and  forego  me  ; 

How  wouldst  thou  use  me  now,  blind  and  thereby 
Deceivable,  in  most  things  as  a  child. 

Helpless,  thence  easily  contemned  and  scorned, 

And  last  neglected  !  how  wouldst  thou  insult 
When  I  must  live  uxorious  to  thy  will 
In  perfect  thraldom  !  how  again  betray  me, 

Bearing  my  words  and  doings  to  the  lords 
To  gloss  upon,  and,  censuring,  frown  or  smile  ! 

This  jail  I  count  the  house  of  liberty 

To  thine,  whpse  doors  my  feet  shall  never  enter. 

Dalila. 

Let  me  approach  at  least,  and  touch  thy  hand. 

120 


SAMSON ■  IN  TIIE  PHILISTINE  PRISON. 


Samson. 

Not  for  thy  life,  lest  fierce  remembrance  wake 
My  sudden  rage  to  tear  thee  joint  by  joint. 

At  distance  I  forgive  thee  ;  go  with  that ; 

Bewail  thy  falsehood,  and  the  pious  works 
It  hath  brought  forth  to  make  thee  memorable 
Among  illustrious  women,  faithful  wives ! 

Cherish  thy  hastened  widowhood  with  the  gold 
Of  matrimonial  treason  !  so  farewell. 

Dalila. 

I  see  thou  art  implacable,  more  deaf 

To  prayers  than  winds  and  seas  ;  yet  winds  to  seas 

Arc  reconciled  at  length,  and  sea  to  shore  : 

Thy  anger,  unappeasable,  still  rages, 

Eternal  tempest,  never  to  be  calmed. 

Why  do  I  humble  thus  myself,  and,  suing 
For  peace,  reap  nothing  but  repulse  and  hate  ; 

Bid  go  with  evil  omen,  and  the  brand 
Of  infamy  upon  mv  name  denounced  ? 

To  mix  with  thy  concernments  I  desist 
Henceforth,  nor  too  much  disapprove  my  own. 
Fame,  if  not  double-faced,  is  double-mouthed, 

And  with  contrary  blast  proclaims  most  deeds  ; 

On  both  his  wings,  one  black,  the  other  white, 
Bears  greatest  names  in  his  wild  acrv  flight. 

My  name  perhaps  among  the  circumcised 
In  Dan,  in  Judah,  and  the  bordering  tribes, 

To  all  posterity  may  stand  defamed, 

With  malediction  mentioned,  and  the  blot 
Of  falsehood  most  uncoujugal  traduced. 

But  in  my  country,  where  I  most  desire, 

In  Ecron,  Gaza,  Asdod,  and  in  Gath, 

I  shall  be  named  among  the  famouscst 
Of  women,  sung  at  solemn  festivals, 

Living  and  dead  recorded,  who,  to  save 
Her  country  from  a  fierce  destroyer,  chose 
Above  the  faith  of  wedlock-bands  ;  my  tomb 
With  odors  visited  and  annual  flowers  ; 

Not  less  renowned  than  in  mount  Ephraim 

121 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

Jael,  who  with  inhospitable,  guile 

Smote  Sisera  sleeping,  through  the  temples  nailed. 

Nor  shall  1  count  it  heinous  to  enjoy 

The  public  marks  of  honor  and  reward 

Conferred  upon  me,  for  the  piety 

Which  to  my  country  I  was  judged  to  have  shown. 

At  this  whoever  envies  or  repines, 

I  leave  him  to  his  lot,  and  like  my  own.  [Exit. 

Manoah. 

She ’s  gone,  a  manifest  serpent  by  her  sting 
Discovered  in  the  end,  till  now  concealed. 

Samson. 

So  let  her  go  ;  God  sent  her  to  debase  me, 

And  aggravate  my  folly,  who  committed 
To  such  a  viper  his  most  sacred  trust 
Of  secrecy,  my  safety,  and  my  life. 

From  Milton's  “Samson  Agonistes”  ( condensed ). 
122 


JEPHTHA’S  DAUGHTER. 


Merle,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


JEPHTHA’S  DAUGHTER. 

story,  which  has  furnished  so  many  themes  for 
poet  and  artist,  belongs,  like  that  of  Samson,  to 
stormy  and  unsettled  period  of  Jewish  history 
di  is  covered  by  the  Book  of  Judges. 

Jephtha,  an  illegitimate  son,  is  cast  out  by  his  brethren,  goes 
off  into  a  kind  of  border-land,  and  becomes,  in  that  turbulent 
period,  a  leader  of  a  somewhat  powerful  tribe. 

These  times  of  the  Judges  remind  us  forcibly,  in  some  re¬ 
spects,  of  the  chivalric  ages.  There  was  the  same  oppor¬ 
tunity  for  an  individual  to  rise  to  power  by  personal  valor,  and 
become  an  organizer  and  leader  in  society.  A  brave  man  was 
a  nucleus  around  whom  gathered  others  less  brave,  seeking 
protection,  and  the  individual  in  time  became  a  chieftain.  The 
bravery  of  Jephtha  was  so  great,  and  his  power  and  consider¬ 
ation  became  such,  that  when  his  native  land  was  invaded  by 
the  Ammonites,  he  was  sent  for  by  a  solemn  assembly  of  his 
people,  and  appointed  their  chief.  Jephtha  appears,  from  the 
story,  to  have  been  a  straightforward,  brave,  generous,  God¬ 
fearing  man. 

The  story  of  his  vow  is  briefly  told.  “And  Jephtha  vowed 
a  vow  unto  the  Lord  and  said,  If  thou  wilt  without  fail  deliver 
the  children  of  Ammon  into  my  hands,  then  it  shall  be  that 
whatsoever  cometli  first  out  of  my  door  to  meet  me,  when  I 
return,  shall  be  the  Lord’s,  and  I  will  offer  it  as  a  whole  offering 
unto  the  Lord.”  The  vow  was  recorded,  a  great  victory  was 
given,  and  the  record  says,  “  And  Jephtha  came  to  Mizpah, 
unto  his  house,  and  behold,  his  daughter  came  out  to  meet  him 
with  timbrels.  She  was  his  only  child,  and  beside  her  he  had 
neither  son  nor  daughter.  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  he  saw 
her,  that  he  rent  his  clothes,  and  said,  Alas !  my  daughter,  thou 

123 


womajst  nr  sacbejd  his  toby. 

hast  brought  me  very  low ;  for  I  have  opened  my  mouth  to  the 
Lord,  and  cannot  go  back.  And  she  said,  My  father,  if  thou 
hast  opened  thy  mouth  to  the  Lord,  do  to  me  according  to  that 
which  hath  proceeded  out  of  thy  mouth ;  forasmuch  as  the 
Lord  hath  taken  vengeance  for  thee  of  thine  enemies,  even  the 
children  of  Ammon.  And  she  said  unto  her  father,  Let  this 
thing  be  done  for  me :  Let  me  alone  two  months,  that  I  may 
go  up  and  down  upon  the  mountains  to  bewail  my  virginity, 
I  and  my  fellows.  And  he  said,  Go.  And  he  sent  her  away 
for  two  months,  and  she  went  with  her  companions  and  be¬ 
wailed  her  virginity  upon  the  mountains.  And  it  came  to  pass 
at  the  end  of  two  months,  that  she  returned  to  her  father,  who 
did  with  her  according  to  his  vow.” 

And  what  was  that  ?  The  popular  version  generally  has  been 
that  Jephtha  killed  his  daughter,  and  offered  her  a  burnt  sacrifice. 
Josephus  puts  this  interpretation  upon  it,  saying  that  “he  of¬ 
fered  such  an  oblation  as  was  neither  conformable  to  the  law 
nor  acceptable  to  God ;  not  weighing  with  himself  what  opinion 
the  hearers  would  have  of  such  a  practice.”  A  large  and  very 
learned  and  respectable  body  of  commentators  among  the  Jews, 
both  ancient  and  modern,  deny  this  interpretation,  and,  as  ap- 
pears  to  us,  for  the  best  of  reasons. 

Jephtha  was  a  Jew,  and  human  sacrifice  was  above  all  things 
abhorrent  to  the  Jewish  law  and  to  the  whole  national  feeling. 
There  is  full  evidence,  in  other  pictures  of  life  and  manners 
given  in  the  Book  of  Judges,  that  in  spite  of  the  turbulence  of 
the  times,  there  were  in  the  country  many  noble,  God-fearing 
men  and  women  who  intelligently  understood  and  practiced  the 
wise  and  merciful  system  of  Moses. 

Granting  that  Jephtha,  living  in  the  heathen  border-land,  had 
mingled  degrading  superstitions  with  his  faith,  it  seems  im¬ 
probable  that  such  men  as  Boaz,  the  husband  of  Ruth,  Elkanah, 
the  husband  of  Hannah,  Manoah  and  his  wife,  the  parents  of 
Samson,  and  the  kind  of  people  with  whom  they  associated, 
could  have  accepted,  as  Judge  of  Israel,  a  man  whom  their  laws 
would  regard  as  guilty  of  such  a  crime.  Besides,  the  Jewish 
law  contained  direct  provisions  for  such  vows.  In  three  or  four 

124 


JEPHTHA!  S  DA  TIGHTER. 

places  in  the  Jewish  law,  it  is  expressly  stated  that  where  a 
human  being  comes  into  the  position  of  a  whole  offering  to  God, 
the  life  of  that  human  being  is  not  to  be  taken ;  and  a  process 
of  substitution  and  redemption  is  pointed  out.  Thus  the  first¬ 
born  of  all  animals  and  the  first-born  of  all  men  were  alike 
commanded  to  be  made  whole  offerings  to  the  Lord :  the  ani¬ 
mals  were  slain  and  burnt,  but  the  human  being  was  redeemed. 
No  one  can  deny  that  all  these  considerations  establish  a  strong- 
probability. 

Finally,  when  historians  and  commentators  are  divided  as  to  a 
fact,  we  are  never  far  out  of  the  way  in  taking  that  solution 
which  is  most  honorable  to  our  common  human  nature,  and  the 
most  in  accordance  with  our  natural  wishes.  We  suppose,  there¬ 
fore,  that  the  daughter  of  Jephtha  was  simply  taken  from  the  or¬ 
dinary  life  of  woman,  and  made  an  offering  to  the  Lord.  She 
could  be  no  man’s  wife ;  and  with  the  feelings  which  were  had  in 
those  days  as  to  marriage,  such  a  lot  was  to  be  lamented  as  the 
cutting  off’  of  all  earthly  hopes.  It  put  an  end  to  the  house  of 
Jephtha,  as  besides  her  lie  had  no  son  or  daughter,  and  it  accounts 
for  the  language  with  which  the  account  closes,  “  She  knew  not 
a  man,”  —  a  wholly  unnecessary  statement,  if  it  be  meant  to  say 
that  she  was  killed.  The  more  we  reflect  upon  it,  the  more 
probable  it  seems  that  this  is  the  right  view  of  the  matter. 

The  existence  from  early  times  among  the  Jews  of  an  order 
of  women  who  renounced  the  usual  joys  and  privileges  of  the 
family  state,  to  devote  themselves  to  religions  and  charitable 
duties,  is  often  asserted.  Walter  Scott,  a  learned  authority  as 
to  antiquities,  and  one  who  seldom  made  a  representation  with¬ 
out  examination,  makes  Rebecca,  in  Ivanhoe,  declare  to  Rowena 
that  from  earliest  times  such  an  order  of  women  had  existed 
among  her  people,  and  to  them  she  purposes  to  belong. 

We  cannot  leave  the  subject  without  pausing  to  wonder  at 
the  exquisite  manner  in  which  the  historian,  whoever  he  was, 
has  set  before  us  a  high  and  lovely  ideal  of  womanhood  in 
this  Judaean  girl.  There  is  but  a  sentence,  yet  what  calm¬ 
ness,  what  high-mindedness,  what  unselfish  patriotism,  are  in 
the  words  !  “  My  father,  if  thou  hast  opened  thy  mouth  to 

125 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

tlie  Lord,  do  to  me  according  to  thy  promise,  forasmuch  as 
the  Lord  hath  taken  vengeance  on  thine  enemies,  the  chil¬ 
dren  of  Ammon.” 

Whatever  it  was  to  which  she  so  calmly  acceded,  it  was 
to  her  the  death  of  all  earthly  hope,  calmly  accepted  in  the 
very  flush  and  morning  tide  of  victory.  How  heroic  the  soul 
that  could  meet  so  sudden  a  reverse  with  so  unmoved  a 
spirit ! 

126 


JEPHTHA’S  DAUGHTER. 


stood  before  her  father’s  gorgeous  tent, 

>  listen  for  his  coming.  Her  loose  hair 
as  resting  on  her  shoulders,  like  a  cloud 
Floating  around  a  statue,  and  the  wind, 

Just  swaying  her  light  robe,  revealed  a  shape 
Praxiteles  might  worship.  She  had  clasped 
Her  hands  upon  her  bosom,  and  had  raised 
Her  beautiful,  dark,  Jewish  eyes  to  heaven, 

Till  the  long  lashes  lay  upon  her  brow. 

Her  lip  was  slightly  parted,  like  the  cleft 
Of  a  pomegranate  blossom  ;  and  her  neck, 

Just  where  the  cheek  was  melting  to  its  curve 
With  the  unearthly  beauty  sometimes  there 
Was  shaded,  as  if  light  had  fallen  off, 

Its  surface  was  so  polished.  She  was  quelling 
Her  light,  quick  breath,  to  hear ;  and  the  white  rose 
Scarce  moved  upon  her  bosom,  as  it  swelled, 

Like  nothing  but  a  lovely  dream  of  light, 

To  meet  the  arching  of  her  queenly  neck. 

Her  countenance  was  radiant  with  love  — 

She  looked  like  one  to  die  for  it  —  a  being 
Whose  whole  existence  was  the  pouring  out 
Of  rich  and  deep  affections.  I  have  thought 
A  brother’s  and  a  sister’s  love  was  much  ; 

I  know  a  brother’s  is  —  for  I  have  been 
A  sister's  idol  —  and  I  know  how  full 
The  heart  may  be  of  tenderness  to  her ! 

But  the  affection  of  a  delicate  child 
For  a  fond  father,  gushing,  as  it  does, 

With  the  sweet  springs  of  life,  and  pouring  on, 
Through  all  earth’s  changes,  like  a  river’s  course, 
Chastened  with  reverence,  and  made  more  pure 
By  the  world’s  discipline  of  light  and  shade,  — 

T  is  deeper — holier. 

127 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 

The  wind  bore  on 

The  leaden  tramp  of  thousands.  Clarion  notes 
Rang  sharply  on  the  ear  at  intervals ; 

And  the  low,  mingled  din  of  mighty  hosts 
Returning  from  the  battle  pour’d  from  far, 

Like  the  deep  murmur  of  a  restless  sea. 

They  came,  as  earthly  conquerors  always  come, 

With  blood  and  splendor,  revelry  and  woe. 

The  stately  horse  treads  proudly,  —  lie  hath  trod 
The  brow  of  death  as  well.  The  chariot-wheels 
Of  warriors  roll  magnificently  on,  — 

Their  weight  hath  crushed  the  fallen.  Man  is  there  — 
Majestic,  lordly  man  —  with  his  sublime 
And  elevated  brow  and  godlike  frame ; 

Lifting  his  crest  in  triumph,  —  for  his  heel 
Hath  trod  the  dying  like  a  wine-press  down  ! 

The  mighty  Jephtha  led  his  warriors  on 
Through  Mizpeh's  streets.  His  helm  was  proudly  set 
And  his  stern  lip  curled  slightly,  as  if  praise 
Were  for  the  hero’s  scorn.  His  step  was  firm, 

But  free  as  India’s  leopard  ;  and  his  mail, 

Whose  shekels  none  in  Israel  might  bear, 

Was  like  a  cedar’s  tassel  on  his  frame. 

His  crest  was  Judah’s  kingliest ;  and  the  look 
Of  his  dark,  lofty  eye,  and  bended  brow, 

Might  quell  the  lion.  He  led  on  ;  but  thoughts 
Seemed  gathering  round  which  troubled  him.  The  veins 
Grew  visible  upon  his  swarthy  brow, 

And  his  proud  lip  was  pressed  as  if  with  pain. 

He  trod  less  firmly ;  and  his  restless  eye 
Glanced  forward  frequently,  as  if  some  ill 
He  dared  not  meet  were  there.  His  home  was  near ; 

He  gazed  intensely  forward.  The  tall  firs 
Before  his  tent  were  motionless.  The  leaves 
Of  the  sweet  aloe,  and  the  clustering  vines 
Which  half  concealed  his  threshold,  met  his  eye, 
Unchanged  and  beautiful ;  and  one  by  one, 

The  balsam,  with  its  sweet-distilling  stems, 

And  the  Circassian  rose,  and  all  the  crowd 
Of  silent  and  familiar  things,  stole  up, 

128 


JEPHTHA'S  DAUGHTER. 

Like  the  recovered  passages  of  dreams. 

He  strode  on  rapidly.  A  moment  more, 

And  he  had  reached  his  home ;  when,  lo  !  there  sprang 
One  with  a  bounding  footstep,  and  a  brow 
Of  light,  to  meet  him.  0,  how  beautiful  !  — 

Her  dark  eye  flashing  like  a  sunlit  gem,  — 

And  her  luxuriant  hair  !  —  ’t  was  like  the  sweep 
Of  a  swift  wing  in  visions.  He  stood  still, 

As  if  the  sight  had  withered  him.  She  threw 
Her  arms  about  his  neck,  —  he  heeded  not. 

She  called  him  “  Father,”  —  but  he  answered  not. 

She  stood  and  gazed  upon  him.  Was  he  wroth  ? 

There  was  no  anger  in  that  bloodshot  eye. 

Had  sickness  seized  him?  She  unclasped  his  helm, 

And  laid  her  white  hand  gently  on  his  brow, 

And  the  large  veins  felt  stiff  and  hard,  like  cords. 

The  touch  aroused  him.  He  raised  up  his  hands, 

And  spoke  the  name  of  God,  in  agony. 

She  knew  that  he  was  stricken,  then  ;  and  rushed 
Again  into  his  arms ;  and,  with  a  flood 
Of  tears  she  could  not  bridle,  sobbed  a  prayer 
That  he  would  tell  her  of  his  wretchedness. 

He  told  her,  —  and  a  momentary  flush 
Shot  o’er  her  countenance ;  and  then  the  soul 
Of  Jephtha’s  daughter  wakened;  and  she  stood 
Calmly  and  nobly  up,  and  said  ’t  was  well,  — 

And  she  would  die . 

The  sun  had  wellnigh  set. 

The  fire  was  on  the  altar  ;  and  the  priest 
Of  the  High  God  was  there.  A  wasted  man 
Was  stretching  out  his  withered  hands  to  Heaven, 

As  if  he  would  have  prayed,  but  had  no  words,  — 

And  she  who  was  to  die,  the  calmest  one 
In  Israel  at  that  hour,  stood  up  alone, 

And  waited  for  the  sun  to  set.  Her  face 
AY  as  pale,  but  very  beautiful,  —  her  lip 
Had  a  more  delicate  outline,  and  the  tint 
Was  deeper ;  but  her  countenance  was  like 
The  majesty  of  angels. 

The  sun  set, — 

And  she  was  dead,  —  but  not  by  violence. 

Nathaniel  P.  JVillis. 


129 


SONG  OF  JEPHTHA’S  DAUGHTER. 


INCE  our  country,  our  God,  0  my  sire ! 
Demand  that  thy  daughter  expire ; 

Since  thy  triumph  was  bought  by  thy  vow, 


Strike  the  bosom  that ’s  bared  for  thee  now ! 


And  the  voice  of  my  mourning  is  o’er, 
And  the  mountains  behold  me  no  more; 
If  the  hand  that  I  love  lay  me  low, 
There  cannot  be  pain  in  the  blow  ! 


And  of  this,  0  my  father !  be  sure,  — 

That  the  blood  of  thy  child  is  as  pure 
As  the  blessing  I  beg  ere  it  flow, 

And  the  last  thought  that  soothes  me  below. 


Though  the  virgins  of  Salem  lament, 
Be  the  judge  and  the  hero  unbent ! 

I  have  won  the  great  battle  for  thee, 
And  my  father  and  country  are  free  ! 


When  this  blood  of  thy  giving  hath  gushed, 

When  the  voice  that  thou  lovest  is  hushed, 

Let  my  memory  still  be  thy  pride, 

And  forget  not  I  smiled  when  I  died. 

Lord  Byron. 


130 


LAMENT  OF  THE  VIRGINS. 

“  And  it  was  a  custom  in  Israel,  that  the  daughters  of  Israel  went  yearly  to  lament  the 
daughter  of  Jephtha,  the  Gileadite,  four  days  in  a  year.” — Judges  xi.  40. 

of  dance  and  song  the  pride, 

Jephtha’s  daughter,  young  and  fair, 

'lever  now  the  wreath  of  bride, 

Ne’er  the  bridal  veil  shall  wear  ! 

Ne’er  with  cymbals  light  advancing, 

Shall  she  greet  her  true  love  home, 

Never  in  the  valleys  dancing, 

Bound  like  ocean’s  purest  foam. 

Never  shall  she  whisper,  —  never, 

Vows  that  bind  the  Hebrew  maid  ; 

Hers  from  all  the  world  to  sever, 

Hers  the  hermit  cell  and  shade. 

0,  of  song  and  dance  the  pride, 

Jephtha’s  daughter,  young  and  fair ; 

She  should  be  a  hero’s  bride, 

She  a  hero  son  should  bear. 

But  her  fortune  is  another, 

She  shall  ne’er  love’s  worship  know ; 

Ne’er  a  babe  shall  call  her  mother, 

Nestled  on  her  breast  of  snow. 

She  hath  gone  from  spring  and  fountain  ; 

She  hath  vanished  from  the  rills  ; 

Lone  she  wanders  on  the  mountain, 

And  her  home  is  on  the  hills. 

0,  of  dance  and  song  the  pride, 

Jephtha’s  daughter,  young  and  fair, 

In  the  mount  she  must  abide, 

And  her  virgin  vestments  wear. 

131 


LAMENT  OF  TIIE  VIE  GINS. 

There  her  foot  that  bounded  lightly, 
Faint  with  maiden  step  shall  go  ; 
And  her  dance  that  was  so  sprightly, 
To  a  pensive  gliding  grow. 

She  shall  bend  ’mid  caverns  praying, 
Like  a  flower  that  trembles  there, 
While  anear  the  wild  fox,  baying, 
Breaks  alone  the  silent  air. 


0,  of  song  and  dance  the  pride, 
Jephtha’s  daughter,  young  and  fair ; 

Angels  with  her  shall  abide, 

Angels  smile  upon  her  prayer. 

Angels  there  shall  be  her  lovers, 

In  such  love  as  angels  use ; 

While  each  wing  that  o’er  her  hovers, 
Sheds  around  celestial  dews  : 

Angefs  there,  that  cheer  her  sighing, 
Shall  her  loneliness  beguile, 

And  the  wings  that  shade  her  dying 
Waft  her  to  the  happy  isle. 


0,  of  dance  and  song  the  pride, 

Jephtha’s  daughter,  young  and  fair ; 

Weep  for  her  that  doth  abide 
On  the  lonely  mountain  there. 

Many  flowers  like  her  have  perished 
Ere  their  scented  buds  could  ope ; 

But  no  flower  was  e’er  so  cherished, 

Ne’er  like  her  a  hero’s  hope. 

Many  maids  have  gone  to  slaughter, 

But  they  ne’er  so  lovely  were  : 

Weep,  0,  weep  for  Jephtha’s  daughter; 

Weep,  ye  lovely,  weep  for  her ! 

Arthur  Cleveland  Coxe. 


132 


in  uj 


W.A  /  ii  •  i 


.y.'Jil'u  / aO 


RUTH. 


Devedeux,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


RUTH  THE  MOABITESS. 

HE  story  of  Ruth  is  a  beautiful  idyl  of  domestic  life, 
opening  to  us  in  the  barbarous  period  of  the  Judges. 
In  reading  some  of  the  latter  chapters  of  that  book, 
one  might  almost  think  that  the  system  of  Moses  had 
proved  a  failure,  and  that  the  nation  was  lapsing  back  into  the 
savage  state  of  the  heathen  world  around  them ;  just  as,  in 
reading  the  history  of  the  raids  and  feuds  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
one  might  consider  Christianity  a  failure.  But  in  both  cases 
there  were  nooks  and  dells  embosomed  in  the  wild  roughness 
of  unsettled  society,  where  good  and  honest  hearts  put  forth 
blossoms  of  immortal  sweetness  and  perfume.  This  history  of 
Ruth  unveils  to  us  pictures  of  the  best  people  and  the  best  sort 
of  life  that  were  formed  by  the  laws  and  institutes  of  Moses, 
—  a  life  pastoral,  simple,  sincere,  reverential,  and  benevolent. 

The  story  is  on  this  wise  :  A  famine  took  place  in  the  land 
of  Judah,  and  a  man  named  Elimelech  went  with  his  wife  and 
two  sons  to  sojourn  in  the  land  of  Moab.  The  sons  took  each 
of  them  a  wife  of  the  daughters  of  Moab,  and  they  dwelt  there 
about  ten  years.  After  that,  the  man  and  both  the  sons  died, 
and  the  mother,  with  her  two  widowed  young  daughters,  pre¬ 
pared  to  return  to  her  kindred.  Here  the  scene  of  the  little 
drama  opens. 

The  mother,  Naomi,  comes  to  our  view,  a  kind-hearted,  com¬ 
monplace  woman,  without  any  strong  religious  faith  or  possi¬ 
bility  of  heroic  exaltation,  — just  one  of  those  women  who  see 
the  hard,  literal  side  of  a  trial,  ungilded  by  any  faith  or  hope. 
We  can  fancy  her  discouraged  and  mournful  air,  and  hear  the 
melancholy  croak  in  her  voice  as  she  talks  to  her  daughters, 
when  they  profess  their  devotion  to  her,  and  their  purpose  to 
share  her  fortunes  and  go  with  her  to  the  land  of  Israel. 

133 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HIS  TOBY. 

“  Turn  again,  my  daughters ;  why  will  ye  go  with  me  ? 
Are  there  yet  any  more  sons  in  my  womb,  that  they  may  be 
your  husbands  ?  Turn  again,  my  daughters,  go  your  way,  for 
I  am  too  old  to  have  an  husband.  If  I  should  say  that  I  have 
hope  to-night  that  I  should  have  an  husband,  and  bear  sons, 
would  ye  tarry  for  them  till  they  were  grown  ?  Would  ye 
stay  from  having  husbands  ?  Nay,  my  daughters,  it  grieveth 
me  for  your  sake  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath  gone  out 
against  me.” 

This  pre-eminently  literal  view  of  the  situation  seemed  to 
strike  one  of  the  daughters  as  not  to  be  gainsaid  ;  for  we  read : 
“  And  they  lifted  up  their  voices  and  wept  again,  and  Orpah 
kissed  her  mother-in-law,  but  Ruth  clave  unto  her.” 

All  the  world  through,  from  that  time  to  this,  have  been 
these  two  classes  of  friends.  The  one  weep,  and  kiss,  and 
leave  us  to  our  fate,  and  go  to  seek  their  own  fortunes.  There 
are  plenty  of  that  sort  every  day.  But  the  other  are  one  with 
us  for  life  or  death. 

The  literal-minded,  sorrowful  old  woman  has  no  thought  of 
inspiring  such  devotion.  Orpah,  in  her  mind,  has  done  the 
sensible  and  only  thing  in  leaving  her,  and  she  says  to  Ruth: 
“  Behold,  thy  sister  has  returned  unto  her  people  and  unto  her 
gods ;  return  thou  after  thy  sister-in-law.” 

We  see  in  this  verse  how  devoid  of  religious  faith  is  the 
mother.  In  a  matter-of-course  tone  she  speaks  of  Orpah  hav¬ 
ing  gone  back  to  her  gods,  and  recommends  Ruth  to  do  the 
like.  And  now  the  fair,  sweet  Ruth  breaks  forth  in  an  uncon¬ 
scious  poetry  of  affection,  which  has  been  consecrated  as  the 
language  of  true  love  ever  since :  u  Entreat  me  not  to  leave 
thee,  or  to  return  from  following  after  thee  ;  for  whither  thou 
goest  I  will  go,  and  where  thou  lodgest  I  will  lodge  :  thy  peo¬ 
ple  shall  be  my  people,  and  thy  God  my  God.  Where  thou 
diest  I  will  die,  and  there  will  I  be  buried :  the  Lord  do  so 
to  me,  and  more  also,  if  aught  but  death  part  thee  and  me.” 

Troth-plight  of  fondest  lovers,  marriage- vows  straitest  and 
most  devoted,  can  have  no  love-language  beyond  this ;  .it  is 
the  very  crystallized  and  diamond  essence  of  constancy  and 

134 


RUTH  THE  MOABITESS. 

devotion.  It  is  thus  that  minds  which  have  an  unconscious 
power  of  enthusiasm  surprise  and  dominate  their  literal  fellow- 
pilgrims.  It  is  as  if  some  silent  dun-colored  bird  had  broken 
out  into  wondrous  ecstasies  of  silver  song.  Naomi  looked  on 
her  daughter,  and  the  narrative  says,  “  When  she  saw  that 
she  was  steadfastly  minded  to  go  with  her,  then  she  left  speak¬ 
ing  to  her.”  But  Ruth  is  ignorant  of  the  beauty  of  her  own 
nature ;  for  Love  never  knows  herself  or  looks  in  a  mirror 
to  ask  if  she  be  fair ;  and  though  her  superior  moral  and 
emotive  strength  prevail  over  the  lower  nature  of  the  mother, 
it  is  with  a  sweet,  unconscious,  yielding  obedience  that  she 
follows  her. 

When  they  came  back  to  their  kindred,  the  scene  is  touch¬ 
ingly  described.  In  her  youth  the  mother  had  been  gay  and 
radiant,  as  her  name,  Naomi,  “  pleasant,”  signifies.  “  And  it 
came  to  pass  that  when  they  came  in,  all  the  village  was 
moved  about  them,  and  they  said :  Is  this  Naomi  ?  And  she 
said :  “  Call  me  not  Naomi,  call  me  Marah  [bitterness] ;  for 
the  Almighty  hath  dealt  very  bitterly  with  me.  I  went  out 
full,  and  the  Lord  hath  brought  me  again  empty.  Why  then 
call  ye  me  Naomi,  seeing  the  Lord  hath  testified  against  me, 
and  the  Almighty  hath  afflicted  me  ?  ” 

We  see  here  a  common  phase  of  a  low  order  of  religion. 
Naomi  does  not  rebel  at  the  Divine  decree.  She  thinks  that 
she  is  bitterly  dealt  with,  but  that  there  is  no  use  in  complain¬ 
ing,  because  it  is  the  Almighty  that  has  done  it.  It  does  not 
even  occur  to  her  that  in  going  away  from  the  land  of  true 
religion,  and  encouraging  her  sons  to  form  marriages  in  a  hea¬ 
then  land,  she  had  done  anything  to  make  this  affliction  need¬ 
ful  ;  and  yet  the  whole  story  shows  that  but  for  this  stroke 
the  whole  family  would  have  settled  down  contentedly  among 
the  Moabites,  and  given  up  country  and  religion  and  God. 
There  are  many  nowadays  to  whom  just  such  afflictions  are 
as  needful,  and  to  whom  they  seem  as  bitter  and  inexplic¬ 
able. 

The  next  scene  shows  us  the  barley-field  of  the  rich  pro¬ 
prietor,  —  “a  mighty  man,  a  man  of  wealth,”  the  narrative 

135 


WOMAN-  m  SACKED  HISTORY. 

calls  him.  Young  men  and  maidens,  a  goodly  company,  are 
reaping,  binding,  and  gathering.  In  the  shade  are  the  parched 
corn  and  sour  wine,  and  other  provisions  set  forth  for  the 
noontide  rest  and  repast. 

The  gracious  proprietor,  a  noble-minded,  gentle  old  man, 
now  conies  upon  the  scene.  “  And  behold,  Boaz  came  from 
Bethlehem,  and  said  to  the  reapers,  The  Lord  be  with  you ; 
and  they  answered,  The  Lord  bless  thee.”  The  religious  spirit 
of  the  master  spread  itself  through  all  his  hands,  and  the  bless¬ 
ing  that  he  breathes  upon  them  was  returned  to  him.  The 
sacred  simplicity  of  the  scene  is  beyond  praise. 

He  inquires  of  his  men  the  history  of  this  fair  one  who 
modestly  follows  the  reapers,  and,  finding  who  she  is,  says : 
“  Hearest  thou,  my  daughter,  go  not  to  glean  in  any  other 
field,  but  abide  here  with  my  maidens.  Let  thine  eyes  be 
upon  the  field  that  they  reap,  and  go  after  them :  have  I 
not  charged  the  young  men  not  to  touch  thee  ?  and  when  thou 
art  athirst,  go  to  the  vessels  and  drink  of  that  that  the  young 
men  have  drawn.”  Then  she  bowed  herself  and  said  :  “  Why 
have  I  found  grace  in  thine  eyes,  that  thou  sliouldst  take 
knowledge  of  me,  seeing  I  am  a  stranger*?”  And  he  said:  “It 
hath  been  fully  shown  unto  me  all  that  thou  hast  done  to  thy 
mother-in-law  since  the  death  of  thy  husband ;  how  thou  hast 
left  thy  father  and  thy  mother,  and  the  land  of  thy  nativity, 
and  art  come  to  a  people  that  thou  knewest  not  heretofore. 
The  Lord  recompense  thy  work,  and  a  full  reward  be  given 
thee  of  the  God  of  Israel,  under  whose  wings  thou  art  come 
to  trust.” 

We  have  afterwards  the  picture  of  the  young  gleaner  made 
at  home  at  the  noontide  repast,  where  the  rich  proprietor  sat 
with  his  servants  in  parental  equality,  —  “  And  she  sat  beside 
the  reapers,  and  he  did  reach  her  parched  corn,  and  she  did 
eat  and  was  sufficed.” 

There  is  a  delicacy  in  the  feeling  inspired  by  the  timid, 
modest  stranger,  which  is  expressed  in  the  orders  given  by 
Boaz  to  the  young  men.  “  And  it  came  to  pass  when  she 
rose  to  glean,  that  Boaz  commanded  his  young  men,  saying  : 

136 


RUTH  THE  MOABITE SS. 

Let  her  glean  even  among  the  sheaves,  and  reproach  her  not ; 
and  let  fall  also  some  handfuls  of  purpose  for  her,  that  she 
may  glean  them,  and  rebuke  her  not.” 

Gleaning,  by  the  institutes  of  Moses,  was  one  of  the  allotted 
privileges  of  the  poor.  It  was  a  beautiful  feature  of  that  sys¬ 
tem  that  consideration  for  the  poor  was  interwoven  with  all 
the  acts  of  common  life.  The  language  of  the  laws  of  Moses 
reminded  the  rich  that  they  were  of  one  family  with  the  poor. 
“  Thou  shalt.  not  harden  thy  heart  nor  shut  thy  hand  from 
thy  poor  brother.  Thou  slialt  surely  give  to  him,  and  thy 
heart  shall  not  be  grieved  when  thou  givest,  because  for  this 
the  Lord  thy  God  shall  bless  thee.”  “  And  when  ye  reap  the 
harvest  of  your  land  thou  slialt  not  wholly  reap  the  corners 
of  the  field,  neither  shalt  thou  gather  the  gleanings  of  thy 
harvest ;  and  thou  shalt  not  glean  thy  vineyard,  neither  shalt 
thou  gather  every  grape  of  thy  vineyard ;  thou  shalt  leave 
them  for  the  poor  and  the  stranger.  I  am  the  Lord.”  This 
provision  for  the  unfortunate  operated  both  ways.  It  taught 
consideration  and  thoughtfulness  to  the  rich,  and  industry  and 
self-respect  to  the  poor.  They  were  not  humbled  as  paupers. 
They  were  not  to  be  beggars,  but  gleaners,  and  a  fair  field 
for  self-respecting  labor  was  opened  to  them.  In  the  spirit  of 
these  generous  laws  the  rich  proprietor  veils  his  patronage  of 
the  humble  maid.  Ruth  was  to  be  abundantly  helped,  as  it 
were,  by  a  series  of  fortunate  accidents. 

We  see  in  the  character  of  Boaz  the  high-minded,  chivalrous 
gentleman,  devout  in  his  religion  Godward,  and  considerately 
thoughtful  of  his  neighbor ;  especially  mindful  of  the  weak  and 
helpless  and  unprotected.  It  was  the  working  out,  in  one 
happy  instance,  of  the  ideal  of  manhood  the  system  of  Moses 
was  designed  to  create. 

And  now  the  little  romance  goes  on  to  a  happy  termina¬ 
tion.  The  fair  gleaner  returns  home  artlessly  triumphant  with 
the  avails  of  her  day’s  toil,  and  tells  her  mother  of  the  kind 
patronage  she  has  received.  At  once,  on  hearing  the  name, 
the  prudent  mother  recognizes  the  near  kinsman  of  the  family, 
bound,  by  the  law  of  Moses  and  the  custom  of  the  land, 

137 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

to  become  the  husband  and  protector  of  her  daughter.  In 
the  eye  of  Jewish  law  and  Jewish  custom  Ruth  already 
belonged  to  Boaz,  and  had  a  right  to  claim  the  position  and 
protection  of  a  wife.  The  system  of  Moses  solved  the  problem 
of  woman  by  allotting  to  every  woman  a  man  as  a  protector. 
A  widow  had  her  son  to  stand  for  her ;  but  if  a  widow  were  left 
without  a  son,  then  the  nearest  kinsman  of  the  former  husband 
was  bound  to  take  her  to  wife.  The  manner  in  which  Naomi 
directs  the  simple-minded  and  obedient  daughter  to  throw  her¬ 
self  on  the  protection  of  her  rich  kinsman  is  so  far  removed 
from  all  our  modern  ideas  of  propriety  that  it  cannot  be  judged 
by  them.  She  is  directed  to  seek  the  threshing-floor  at  night, 
to  lie  down  at  his  feet,  and  draw  over  her  his  mantle ;  thus, 
in  the  symbolic  language  of  the  times,  asserting  her  humble 
right  to  the  protection  of  a  wife.  Ruth  is  shown  to  us  as  one 
of  those  artless,  confiding  natures  that  see  no  evil  in  what  is 
purely  and  rightly  intended.  It  is  enough  for  her,  a  stranger, 
to  understand  that  her  mother,  an  honored  Judsean  matron, 
would  command  nothing  which  was  not  considered  decorous 
and  proper  among  her  people.  She  obeys  without  a  question. 
In  the  same  spirit  of  sacred  simplicity  in  which  the  action  was 
performed  it  was  received.  There  is  a  tender  dignity  and  a 
chivalrous  delicacy  in  the  manner  in  which  the  bold  yet 
humble  advance  is  accepted. 

11  And  Boaz  awoke,  and,  behold,  a  woman  lay  at  his  feet. 
And  he  said,  Who  art  thou  %  And  she  said,  I  am  Ruth,  thy 
handmaid.  Spread  thy  skirt  over  me,  for  thou  art  my  near 
kinsman.  And  he  said,  Blessed  art  thou  of  the  Lord,  my 
daughter,  for  thou  hast  shown  more  kindness  at  the  end  than 
in  the  beginning,  inasmuch  as  thou  followedst  not  the  young 
men,  poor  or  rich.  And  now,  my  daughter,  fear  not;  I  will 
do  for  thee  all  that  thou  requirest,  for  all  the  city  of  my  peo¬ 
ple  doth  know  that  thou  art  a  virtuous  woman.” 

The  very  crucial  test  of  gentlemanly  delicacy  and  honor  is 
the  manner  in  which  it  knows  how  to  receive  an  ingenuous 
and  simple-hearted  act  of  confidence.  As  in  the  fields  Boaz 
did  not  ostentatiously  urge  alms  upon  the  timid  maiden,  but 

138 


RUTH  THE  MOABITES 8. 

suffered  her  to  have  the  pleasure  of  gleaning  for  herself,  so 
now  he  treats  this  act  by  which  she  throws  herself  upon  his 
protection  as  an  honor  done  to  him,  for  which  he  is  bound  to 
be  grateful.  He  hastens  to  assure  her  that  he  is  her  debtor 
for  the  preference  she  shows  him.  That  courtesy  and  chivalric 
feeling  for  woman  which  was  so  strong  a  feature  in  the  char¬ 
acter  of  Moses,  and  which  is  embodied  in  so  many  of  his  laws 
and  institutes,  comes  out  in  this  fine  Hebrew  gentleman  as 
perfectly,  but  with  more  simplicity,  than  in  the  Sir  Charles 
Grandison  of  the  eighteenth  century.  And  so,  at  last,  the 
lovely  stranger,  Ruth  the  Moabitess,  becomes  the  wife  of  the 
rich  landed  proprietor,  with  the  universal  consent  of  all  the 
people.  “  And  all  the  people  that  were  in  the  gates  and  the 
elders  said,  We  are  witnesses.  The  Lord  make  this  woman 
that  is  come  into  thy  house  like  Rachel  and  like  Leah,  which 
two  did  build  the  house  of  Israel.” 

From  this  marriage  of  the  chivalrous,  pious  old  man  with 
the  devoted  and  loving  Ruth  the  Moabitess,  sprang  an  aus¬ 
picious  lineage.  The  house  of  David,  the  holy  maiden  of 
Judaea  and  her  son,  whom  all  nations  call  blessed,  were  the 
illustrious  seed  of  this  wedding.  In  the  scene  at  the  birth  of 
the  first  son  of  Ruth,  we  have  a  fine  picture  of  the  manners  of 
those  days.  “And  the  women  said  unto  Naomi,  Blessed  be  the 
Lord  which  hath  not  left  tliee  this  day  without  a  kinsman,  that 
his  name  may  be  famous  in  Israel.  And  he  shall  be  unto  thee 
a  restorer  of  thy  life  and  a  nourisher  of  thy  old  age :  for  thy 
daughter-in-law,  which  lovetli  thee,  and  is  better  to  tliee  than 
seven  sons,  hath  borne  him.  And  Naomi  took  the  child  and 
laid  it  in  her  bosom,  and  became  nurse  unto  it.  And  the 
women  her  neighbors  gave  it  a  name,  saying,  There  is  a  son 
born  to  Naomi,  and  they  called  his  name  Obed ;  he  is  the 
father  of  Jesse,  the  father  of  David.” 

In  all  this  we  see  how  strong  is  the  impression  which  the 
loving  nature  of  Ruth  makes  in  the  narrative.  From  the  union 
of  this  woman  so  tender  and  true,  and  this  man  so  gracious 
and  noble  and  chivalric,  comes  the  great  heart-poet  of  the 
world.  No  other  songs  have  been  so  dear  to  mankind,  so 

139 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 

cherished  in  the  heart  of  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  in 
every  nation  and  language,  as  these  Psalms  of  David. 

“  It  is  that  music  to  whose  tone 

The  common  pulse  of  man  keeps  time, 

In  cot  or  castle’s  mirth  or  moan, 

In  cold  or  fervid  clime.” 

In  the  tender  friendship  of  David  for  Jonathan,  we  see  again 
the  loving  constancy  of  Ruth  in  a  manly  form,  —  the  love  be¬ 
tween  soul  and  soul,  which  was  “  wonderful,  passing  the  love 
of  women.”  In  the  ideal  which  we  form  of  Mary,  the  mother 
of  Jesus,  lowly,  modest,  pious,  constant,  rich  in  the  power  of 
love  and  in  a  simple,  trustful  faith,  we  see  the  transmission  of 
family  traits  through  generations.  Dante,  in  his  “  Paradise,” 
places  Ruth  among  the  holy  women  who  sit  at  the  feet  of  the 
glorified  Madonna.  The  Providence  that  called  a  Moabitish 
ancestress  into  that  golden  line  whence  should  spring  the 
Messiah  was  a  sort  of  morning  star  of  intimation  that  He 
should  be  of  no  limited  nationality ;  that  he  was  to  be  the 
Son  of  Max,  the  Lord  and  brother  of  all  mankind. 

140 


RUTH. 


N  the  land  of  Bethlehem- Judah 
Let  us  linger,  let  us  wander ; 
Ephrath’s  sorrow,  Rachel’s  pillar, 
in  the  valley  yonder; 

And  the  yellow  barley  harvest 
Floods  it  with  a  golden  glory. 

Let  us  back  into  the  old  time, 

Dreaming  of  her  tender  story, 

Of  her  true  heart’s  strong  devotion, 

From  beyond  the  Dead  Sea  water, 
From  the  heathen  land  of  Moab,  — 
Mahlon’s  wife  and  Mara’s  daughter. 


Lieth 


On  the  terebinth  and  fig  tree 
Suns  of  olden  time  are  shining, 

And  the  dark  leaf  of  the  olive 
Scarcely  shows  its  silver  lining ; 

For  still  noon  is  on  the  thicket, 

Where  the  blue-necked  pigeons  listen 
To  their  own  reproachful  music, 

And  the  red  pomegranates  glisten  ; 

As  a  queen  a  golden  circlet, 

As  a  maid  might  wear  a  blossom, 

So  the  valley  wears  the  cornfields 
Heaving  on  her  fertile  bosom  ; 

And  the  wild  gray  hills  stand  o’er  them, 
All  their  terraced  vineyards  swelling, 
Like  the  green  waves  of  a  forest, 

Up  to  David’s  mountain  dwelling. 


Lo !  the  princely  hearted  Boaz 
Moves  among  his  reapers  slowly ; 

141 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

And  the  widowed  child  of  Moab 
Bends  behind  the  gleaners  lowly, 
Gathering,  gleaning,  as  she  goeth 

Down  the  slopes  and  up  the  hollows  ; 
While  the  love  of  old  Naomi 
Like  a  guardian  angel  follows. 

And  he  speaketh  words  of  kindness, 
Words  of  kindness,  calm  and  stately ; 
Till  he  breaks  the  springs  of  gladness 
That  lay  cold  and  frozen  lately ; 

And  the  love-flowers  that  had  faded 
Deep  within  her  bosom  lonely, 

Slowly  open  as  he  questions, 

Soon  for  him  to  blossom  only, 

When  that  spring  shall  fill  with  music, 
Like  an  overflowing  river, 

All  his  homestead ;  and  those  flowers 
Bloom  beside  his  hearth  forever. 

Mother  of  a  line  of  princes, 

Wrought  into  that  race’s  story, 

Whom  the  Godhead  breaking  earthward 
Marked  with  an  unearthly  glory ! 

Still  he  walks  among  the  reapers, 

And  the  day  is  nearly  over, 

And  the  lonely  mountain  partridge 
Seeks  afar  his  scanty  cover; 

And  the  flocks  of  wild  blue  pigeons, 

That  had  gleaned  behind  the  gleaner, 
Find  their  shelter  in  the  thicket ; 

And  the  cloudless  sky  grows  sheener 
With  a  sudden  flush  of  crimson, 

Steeping  in  a  fiery  luster 
Every  sheaf-top  in  the  valley, 

On  the  hillside  every  cluster. 

Slowly,  slowly  fade,  fair  picture, 

Yellow  lights  and  purple  shadows, 

On  the  valley,  on  the  mountain, 

And  sweet  Ruth  among  the  meadows  ! 
Stay  awhile,  true  heart,  and  teach  us, 
Pausing  in  thy  matron  beauty, 

142 


RUT II. 

Care  of  elders,  love  of  kindred, 

All  unselfish  thought  and  duty. 

Linger,  Boaz,  noble-minded  ! 

Teach  us,  haughty  and  unsparing, 

Tender  care  for  lowlier  station, 

Kindly  speech  and  courteous  bearing. 

Still  each  softest,  loveliest  color, 

Shrine  the  form  beloved  and  living ; 

Heroine  of  our  heart’s  first  poem, 

Through  our  childhood’s  dreamland  moving, 

When  the  great  old  Bible  opened, 

And  a  pleasant  pastoral  measure, 

As  our  mothers  read  the  story, 

Filled  our  infant  hearts  with  pleasure. 

Dublin  University  Magazine. 


THE  FAITH  OF  RUTH. 


E  plume-like  swaying  of  the  auburn  corn, 

By  soft  winds  to  a  dreamy  motion  fanned, 
itill  brings  me  back  thine  image,  O  forlorn, 

Yet  not  forsaken,  Ruth  !  I  see  thee  stand 
Lone,  ’midst  the  gladness  of  the  harvest  band,  — 

Lone  as  a  wood-bird  on  the  ocean’s  foam, 

Fallen  in  its  weariness.  Thy  fatherland 
Smiles  far  away !  yet  to  the  sense  of  home, 

That  finest,  purest,  which  can  recognize 
Home  in  affection’s  glance,  forever  true 
Beats  thy  calm  heart ;  and  if  thy  gentle  eyes 
Gleam  tremulous  through  tears,  t  is  not  to  rue 
Those  words,  immortal  in  their  deep  love's  tone, 

“  Thy  people  and  thy  God  shall  be  mine  own  !  ” 

Felicia  Remans. 


143 


RUTH. 


HE  stood  breast-high  amid  the  corn, 
Clasped  by  the  golden  light  of  morn, 
Like  the  sweetheart  of  the  sun, 

Who  many  a  glowing  kiss  had  won. 


On  her  cheek  an  autumn  flush 
Deeply  ripened  ;  —  such  a  blush 
In  the  midst  of  brown  was  born, 
Like  red  poppies  grown  with  corn. 


Round  her  eyes  her  tresses  fell,  — 
Which  were  blackest  none  could  tell ; 
But  long  lashes  veiled  a  light 
That  had  else  been  all  too  bright. 


And  her  hat,  with  shady  brim, 
Made  her  tressy  forehead  dim  ;  — 
Thus  she  stood  among  the  stooks, 
Praising  God  with  sweetest  looks. 


Sure,  I  said,  God  did  not  mean 
Where  I  reap  thou  shouldst  but  glean ; 

Lay  thy  sheaf  adown  and  come, 

Share  my  harvest  and  my  home. 

Thomas  Hood. 


144 


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HANNAH 


Brochart,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


HANNAH  THE  PRAYING  MOTHER. 

IE  story  of  Hannah  is  a  purely  domestic  one,  and 
is  most  valuable  in  unveiling  the  intimate  and  trust¬ 
ful  life  of  faith  that  existed  between  the  Jehovah  re¬ 
vealed  in  the  Old  Testament  and  eacli  separate  soul, 
however  retired  and  humble.  It  is  not  God  the  Lawgiver  and 
King,  but,  if  we  may  so  speak,  God  in  his  private  and  con¬ 
fidential  relations  to  the  individual.  The  story  opens  briefly, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  Bible,  whose  brevity  in  words  is  such 
a  contrast  to  the  tediousness  of  most  professed  sacred  books. 

“There  was  a  man,”  says  the  record,  “named  Elkanah,  and 
he  had  two  wives  ;  and  the  name  of  the  one  was  Hannah,  and 
the  name  of  the  other  Peninnah,  and  Peninnah  had  children, 
but  Hannah  had  none.”  Hannah,  from  the  story,  appeal’s  to 
have  had  one  of  those  intense  natures,  all  nerve  and  sensi¬ 
bility,  on  which  every  trouble  lies  with  double  weight.  The 
lack  of  children  in  an  age  when  motherhood  was  considered  the 
essential  glory  of  woman,  was  to  her  the  climax  of  anguish 
and  mortification.  Nor  was  there  wanting  the  added  burden 
of  an  unfriendly  party  to  notice  and  to  inflame  the  hidden 
wound  by  stinging  commentaries;  for  we  are  told  that  “her 
adversary  provoked  her  sore,  to  make  her  fret.”  And  thus, 
year  by  year,  as  the  family  went  up  to  the  sacred  feast  at 
Shiloh,  and  other  exultant  mothers  displayed  their  fair  sons 
and  daughters,  the  sacred  feast  was  turned  into  gall  for  the 
unblest  one,  and  we  are  told  that  Hannah  “  wept  and  did 
not  eat.”  “  Then  said  Elkanah  unto  her,  Hannah,  why  weep- 
est  thou  ?  and  why  eatest  thou  not  ?  and  why  is  thy  heart 
grieved  ?  Am  I  not  better  to  thee  than  ten  sons  ?  ” 

Hannah  was  one  of  a  class  of  women  in  whom  genius  and 
a  poetic  nature  are  struggling  with  a  vague  intensity,  giving 

145 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HIS  TOBY. 


the  keenest  edge  to  desire  and  to  disappointment.  All  Judaean 
women  desire  children,  but  Hannah  had  that  vivid  sense  of 
nationality,  that  identification  of  self  with  the  sublime  future 
of  her  people,  that  made  it  bitter  to  be  excluded  from  all 
share  in  those  hopes  and  joys  of  motherhood  from  which  the 
earth’s  deliverer  was  to  spring.  She  desired  a  son,  as  poets 
desire  song,  as  an  expression  of  all  that  was  heroic  and  unex¬ 
pressed  in  herself,  and  as  a  tribute  to  the  future  glories  of 
her  people.  A  poet  stricken  with  paralysis  might  suffer  as  she 
suffered.  But  it  was  a  kind  and  degree  of  sorrow,  the  result 
of  an  exceptional  nature,  which  few  could  comprehend.  To 
some  it  would  afford  occasion  only  for  vulgar  jests.  Even 
her  husband,  devoted  as  he  was,  wondered  at  rather  than 
sympathised  with  it. 

It  appears  that  there  rose  at  last  one  of  those  flood-tides  of 
feeling  when  the  soul  cries  out  for  relief,  and  must  have  a  Helper; 
and  Hannah  bethought  her  of  the  words  of  Moses,  “  What  nation 
is  there  that  hath  their  God  so  nigli  unto  them  as  the  Lord  our 
God  is  unto  us,  for  all  that  we  call  unto  him  for  ?  ”  It  is  pre¬ 
cisely  for  such  sorrows  —  intimate,  private,  personal,  and  not  to 
be  comprehended  fully  by  any  earthly  friend  —  that  an  All-see¬ 
ing,  loving  Father  is  needed.  And  Hannah  followed  the  teach¬ 
ings  of  her  religion  when  she  resolved  to  make  a  confidant  of  her 
God,  and  ask  of  him  the  blessing  her  soul  fainted  for.  She  chose 
the  sacred  feast  at  Shiloh  for  the  interview  with  the  gracious 
Helper ;  and,  after  the  festival,  remained  alone  in  the  holy  place 
in  an  ecstasy  of  fervent  prayer.  The  narrative  says:  “And  she 
was  in  bitterness  of  soul  and  prayed  unto  the  Lord  and  wept 
sore.  And  she  vowed  a  vow  and  said,  0  Lord  of  Hosts,  if  thou 
wilt  indeed  look  on  the  affliction  of  thine  handmaid,  and  re¬ 
member  me,  and  not  forget  thine  handmaid,  but  will  give  unto 
thine  handmaid  a  man-child,  then  will  I  give  him  unto  the  Lord 
all  the  days  of  his  life.  And  it  came  to  pass  as  she  continued 
praying  before  the  Lord,  that  Eli  marked  her  mouth.  Now 
Hannah  she  spake  in  her  heart,  only  her  lips  moved,  but  her 
voice  was  not  heard ;  therefore  Eli  thought  she  had  been 
drunken.” 


146 


HANNAII  THE  PRAYING  MOTHER. 

He  —  dear,  kind-hearted,  blundering  old  priest  —  reproved  her 
with  about  as  much  tact  as  many  similar,  well-meaning,  obtuse 
people  use  nowadays  in  the  management  of  natures  whose 
heights  and  depths  they  cannot  comprehend.  Hannah  meekly 
answers:  “No,  my  lord,  I  am  a  woman  of  a  sorrowful  spirit;  I 
have  drunk  neither  wine  nor  strong  drink,  but  have  poured  out 
my  soul  before  the  Lord.  Count  not  thy  handmaid  for  a  daugh¬ 
ter  of  Belial,  for  out  of  the  abundance  of  my  complaint  and  grief 
have  I  spoken  hitherto.  Then  Eli  answered  and  said,  Go  in 
peace,  the  God  of  Israel  grant  thee  thy  petition  thou  hast  asked 
of  him.  And  she  said,  Let  thine  handmaid  find  grace  in  thy 
sight.  So  the  woman  went  her  way  and  did  eat,  and  her  counte¬ 
nance  was  no  more  sad.” 

This  experience  illustrates  that  kind  of  prevailing  prayer  that 
comes  when  the  soul,  roused  to  the  full  intensity  of  its  being  by 
the  pressure  of  some  anguish,  pours  itself  out  like  a  wave  into 
the  bosom  of  its  God.  The  very  outgush  is  a  relief ;  there  is 
healing  in  the  very  act  of  self-abandonment,  as  the  whole  soul 
casts  itself  on  God.  And  though  there  be  no  present  fulfillment, 
yet,  in  point  of  fact,  peace  and  rest  come  to  the  spirit.  Hannah 
had  no  voice  of  promise,  no  external  sign,  only  the  recorded 
promise  of  God  to  hear  prayer;  but  the  prayer  brought  relief. 
All  the  agony  of  desire  passed  away.  Her  countenance  was  no 
more  sad.  In  due  time,  the  visible  answer  came.  Hannah  was 
made  the  happy  mother  of  a  son,  whom  she  called  Samuel,  or 
“Asked  of  God.” 

This  year,  when  the  family  went  up  to  Shiloh,  Hannah  re¬ 
mained  with  her  infant;  for  she  said  to  her  husband,  “I  will  not 
go  up  until  the  child  be  weaned ;  and  then  will  I  bring  him  that 
he  may  appear  before  the  Lord,  and  there  abide  forever.”  The 
period  of  weaning  Avas  of  a  much  later  date  among  JeAvish 
women  than  in  modern  times ;  and  Ave  may  imagine  the  little 
Samuel  three  or  four  years  old  when  his  mother  prepares,  Avith 
all  solemnity,  to  carry  him  and  present  him  in  the  temple  as  her 
offering  to  God.  “And  when  she  had  weaned  him  she  took  him 
up  with  her,  Avith  three  bullocks,  and  one  ephah  of  flour,  and  a 
bottle  of  wine,  and  brought  him  unto  the  house  of  the  Lord  in 

147 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  HIS  TOBY. 

Shiloh  ;  and  the  child  was  young'.  And  they  slew  a  bullock,  and 
brought  the  child  to  Eli.  And  she  said,  0  my  lord,  as  thy  soul 
liveth,  my  lord,  I  am  the  woman  that  stood  by  thee  here  praying 
unto  the  Lord.  For  this  child  I  prayed,  and  the  Lord  hath 
given  me  my  petition  which  I  asked  of  him.  Therefore  also 
have  I  lent  him  to  the  Lord  ;  as  long  as  he  liveth  he  shall  be 
lent  to  the  Lord.  And  she  worshiped  the  Lord  there.” 

And  now  the  depths  of  this  silent  woman’s  soul  break  forth 
into  a  song  of  praise  and  thanksgiving.  Hannah  rises  before  us 
as  the  inspired  poetess,  and  her  song  bears  a  striking  resem¬ 
blance  in  theme  and  in  cast  of  thought  to  that  of  Mary  the  mother 
of  Jesus,  years  after.  Indeed,  there  is  in  the  whole  history  of 
this  sacred  and  consecrated  child,  a  foreshadowing  of  that  more 
celestial  flower  of  Nazareth  that  should  yet  arise  from  the  Judsean 
stock.  This  idea  of  a  future  Messiah  and  King  permeated  every 
pious  soul  in  the  nation,  and  gave  a  solemn  intensity  to  the 
usual  rejoicings  of  motherhood ;  for  who  knew  whether  the 
auspicious  child  might  not  spring  from  her  lineage!  We  see, 
in  the  last  verse  of  this  poem,  that  Hannah’s  thoughts  in  her 
hour  of  joy  fix  themselves  on  the  glorious  future  of  the  coming 
King  and  Anointed  One  as  the  climax  of  her  joy. 

It  will  be  interesting  to  compare  this  song  of  Hannah  with 
that  of  Mary,  and  notice  how  completely  the  ideas  of  the  earlier 
mother  had  melted  and  transfused  themselves  into  the  heart  of 
Mary.  Years  after,  when  the  gathering  forces  of  the  Church  and 
State  were  beginning  to  muster  themselves  against  Martin  Luther, 
and  he  stood  as  one  man  against  a  world,  he  took  refuge  in 
this  song  of  the  happy  woman ;  printed  it  as  a  tract,  with 
pointed  commentaries,  and  spread  it  all  over  Europe ;  and  in 
thousands  of  hamlets  hearts  were  beating  to  the  heroic  words 
of  the  Judsean  mother:  — 

“  My  heart  rejoiceth  in  Jehovah, 

My  horn  is  exalted  in  Jehovah  ; 

My  speech  shall  flow  out  over  my  enemies, 

Because  I  rejoice  in  thy  salvation. 

There  is  none  holy  as  Jehovah  : 

For  there  is  none  beside  thee  : 

Neither  is  there  any  rock  like  our  God. 

148 


HANNAH  THE  PRAYING  MOTHER. 

Talk  no  more  so  exceeding  proudly  ; 

Let  not  arrogance  come  out  of  thy  mouth  : 

For  Jehovah  is  a  God  of  knowledge, 

By  him  are  actions  weighed. 

The  bows  of  mighty  men  are  broken, 

But  the  weak  are  girded  with  strength. 

The  rich  have  hired  out  for  bread  ; 

But  the  hungry  cease  from  want. 

The  barren  woman  hath  borne  seven  ; 

The  fruitful  one  hath  grown  feeble. 

Jehovah  killeth  and  maketh  alive  ; 

lie  bringeth  down  to  the  grave  and  bringetk  up. 

Jehovah  maketh  poor  and  maketh  rich  ; 

He  bringeth  low,  and  lifteth  up. 

He  raiseth  the  poor  out  of  the  dust, 

He  lifteth  the  beggar  from  the  dunghill, 

To  set  them  among  princes, 

To  make  them  inherit  the  throne  of  glory  ; 

For  the  pillars  of  the  earth  are  Jehovah’s, 

He  hath  set  the  world  upon  them. 

He  M  ill  keep  the  feet  of  his  saints, 

The  wicked  shall  be  silent  in  darkness  ; 

For  by  strength  no  man  shall  prevail. 

The  adversaries  of  Jehovah  shall  be  broken  to  pieces  ; 

Out  of  heaven  shall  he  thunder  upon  them. 

Jehovah  shall  judge  the  ends  of  the  earth  ; 

He  shall  give  strength  unto  his  King, 

And  exalt  the  horn  of  his  Anointed.” 

This  song  shows  the  fire,  the  depth,  the  fervency  of  the  nature 
of  this  woman,  capable  of  rising  to  the  sublimest  conceptions. 
It  is  the  ecstasy  of  the  triumph  of  conscious  weakness  in  an  om¬ 
nipotent  protector.  Through  her  own  experience,  as  it  is  with 
every  true  soul,  she  passes  to  the  experience  of  universal  hu¬ 
manity  ;  in  her  Deliverer  she  sees  the  Deliverer  and  Helper  of 
all  the  helpless  and  desolate ;  and  thus,  through  the  gate  of  per¬ 
sonal  experience,  she  comes  to  a  wide  sympathy  with  all  who 
live.  She  loves  her  God,  not  mainly  and  only  for  what  he  is  to 
her,  but  for  what  he  is  to  all.  How  high  and  splendid  were 
these  conceptions  and  experiences  that  visited  and  hallowed  the 
life  of  the  simple  and  lowly  Jewish  woman  in  those  rugged  and 
unsettled  periods,  and  what  beautiful  glimpses  do  we  get  of  the 
good  and  honest-hearted  people  that  lived  at  that  time  in  Pales¬ 
tine,  and  went  up  yearly  to  worship  at  Shiloh ! 

149 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


After  this  we  have  a  few  more  touches  in  this  beautiful  story. 
The  little  one  remained  in  the  temple;  for  it  is  said,  “And 
Samuel  ministered  before  the  Lord,  being  a  child,  girded  with  a 
linen  epliod.  Moreover,  his  mother  made  him  a  little  coat  and 
brought  it  to  him  from  year  to  year,  when  she  came  up  with  her 
husband  to  offer  the  yearly  sacrifice.”  How  the  little  one  was 
cared  for  the  story  does  not  say.  In  some  passages  of  the  Bible, 
we  have  intimations  of  an  order  of  consecrated  women  who  de¬ 
voted  themselves  to  the  ministries  of  the  temple,  like  Anna  the 
prophetess,  “who  departed  not  from  the  temple,  but  served  God 
with  fasting  and  prayer,  night  and  day.”  Doubtless  from  the 
hands  of  such  were  motherly  ministries.  One  rejoices  to  hear 
that  the  Gracious  Giver  blessed  this  mother  abundantly  more 
than  she  asked  or  thought;  for  we  are  told  that  a  family  of 
three  sons  and  two  daughters  were  given  to  her. 

We  cannot  forbear  to  add  to  this  story  that  of  the  sacred  little 
one,  who  grew  fair  as  the  sheltered  lily  in  the  house  of  God. 
Child  of  prayer,  born  in  the  very  ardor  and  ecstasy  of  a  soul 
uplifted  to  God,  his  very  nature  seemed  heavenly,  and  the 
benignant  Father  early  revealed  himself  to  him,  choosing  him  as 
a  medium  for  divine  messages.  One  of  the  most  thrilling  and 
poetic  passages  in  the  Bible  describes  the  first  call  of  the  Divine 
One  to  the  consecrated  child.  The  lamps  burning  in  the  holy 
place  ;  the  little  one  lying  down  to  sleep  ;  the  mysterious  voice 
calling  him ;  his  innocent  wonder,  and  the  slow  perception  of 
old  Eli  of  the  true  significance  of  the  event,  —  all  these  form  a 
beautiful  introduction  to  the  life  of  the  last  and  most  favored 
of  those  prophetic  magistrates  who  interpreted  to  the  Jewish 
people  the  will  of  God.  Samuel  was  the  last  of  the  J udges,  — 
the  strongest,  the  purest,  and  most  blameless,  —  the  worthy 
son  of  such  a  mother. 


150 


THE  PRESENTATION  OF  SAMUEL. 


rose  was  in  rich  bloom  on  Sharon’s  plain, 
hen  a  young  mother,  with  her  first-born,  thence 
ent  up  to  Zion ;  for  the  boy  was  vowed 
Unto  the  temple  service.  By  the  hand 
She  led  him,  and  her  silent  soul,  the  while, 

Oft  as  the  dewy  laughter  of  his  eye 
Met  her  sweet,  serious  glance,  rejoiced  to  think 
That  aught  so  pure,  so  beautiful,  was  hers 
To  bring  before  her  God.  So  passed  they  on 
O’er  Judah’s  hills ;  and  wheresoe’er  the  leaves 
Of  the  broad  sycamore  made  sounds  at  noon 
Like  lulling  rain-drops,  or  the  olive-boughs, 

With  their  cool  dimness,  crossed  the  sultry  blue 
Of  Syria’s  heaven,  she  paused  that  he  might  rest ; 

Yet  from  her  own  meek  eyelids  chased  the  sleep 
That  weighed  their  dark  fringe  down,  to  sit  and  watch 
The  crimson  deepening  o’er  his  cheek’s  repose, 

As  at  a  red  flower’s  heart.  And  where  a  fount 
Lay  like  a  twilight  star  ’midst  palmy  shades, 

Making  its  banks  green  gems  along  the  wild, 

There  too  she  lingered,  from  the  diamond  wave 
Drawing  bright  water  for  his  rosy  lips, 

And  softly  parting  clusters  of  jet  curls 
To  bathe  his  brow. 

At  last  the  Fane  was  reached, 

The  Earth’s  One  Sanctuary,  —  and  rapture  hushed 
Her  bosom,  as  before  her,  through  the  day, 

It  rose,  a  mountain  of  white  marble,  steeped 

In  light  like  floating  gold.  But  when  that  hour 

Waned  to  the  farewell  moment,  when  the  boy 

Lifted  through  rainbow-gleaming  tears  his  eye 

Beseechingly  to  hers,  and  half  in  fear 

Turned  from  the  white-robed  priest,  and  round  her  arm 

151 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

Clung  even  as  joy  clings,  —  the  deep  springtide 
Of  nature  then  swelled  high,  and  o’er  her  child 
Bending,  her  soul  broke  forth,  in  mingled  sounds 
Of  weeping  and  sad  song.  “  Alas  !  ”  she  cried, 

“  Alas !  my  boy,  thy  gentle  grasp  is  on  me ; 

The  bright  tears  quiver  in  thy  pleading  eyes, 

And  now  fond  thoughts  arise, 

And  silver  cords  again  to  earth  have  won  me  ; 

And  like  a  vine  thou  claspest  my  full  heart,  — 

How  shall  I  hence  depart  ?  — 

“  How  the  lone  paths  retrace  where  thou  wert  playing 
So  late,  along  the  mountains,  at  my  side  ! 

And  I,  in  joyous  pride, # 

By  every  place  of  flowers  my  course  delaying, 

Wove,  e’en  as  pearls,  the  lilies  round  thy  hair, 

Beholding  thee  so  fair? 

“  And,  0,  the  home  whence  thy  bright  smile  hath  parted, 
Will  it  not  seem  as  if  the  sunny  day 
Turned  from  its  door  away  ? 

While  through  its  chambers  wandering,  weary-hearted, 

I  languish  for  thy  voice,  which  past  me  still 
Went  like  a  singing  rill  ? 

“  Under  the  palm-trees  thou  no  more  shalt  meet  me, 
When  from  the  fount  at  evening  I  return, 

With  the  full  water-urn ; 

Nor  will  thy  sleep’s  low  dove-like  breathings  greet  me 
As  ’midst  the  silence  of  the  stars  I  wake, 

And  watch  for  thy  dear  sake. 

“  And  thou,  will  slumber’s  dewy  cloud  fall  round  thee, 
Without  thy  mother’s  hand  to  smooth  thy  bed  ? 

Wilt  thou  not  vainly  spread 
Thine  arms,  when  darkness  as  a  veil  hath  wound  thee, 

To  fold  my  neck,  and  lift  up,  in  thy  fear, 

A  cry  which  none  shall  hear  ? 

“  What  have  I  said,  my  child  ?  Will  He  not  hear  thee, 
Who  the  young  ravens  heareth  from  their  nest? 

Shall  He  not  guard  thy  rest, 

152 


TIIE  PRESENTATION  OF  SAMUEL. 

And,  in  the  hush  of  holy  midnight  near  thee, 

Breathe  o’er  thy  soul,  and  fill  its  dreams  with  joy  ?  — 
Thou  shalt  sleep  soft,  my  boy. 

“  I  give  thee  to  thy  God,  —  the  God  that  gave  thee, 

A  well-spring  of  deep  gladness,  to  my  heart ! 

And,  precious  as  thou  art, 

And  pure  as  dew  of  Hermon,  He  shall  have  thee, 

My  own,  my  beautiful,  my  undefiled  ! 

And  thou  shalt  be  His  child  ! 


“  Therefore,  farewell !  —  I  go  ;  my  soul  may  fail  me, 

As  the  hart  panteth  for  the  water-brooks, 

Yearning  for  thy  sweet  .looks, 

But  thou,  my  first-born,  droop  not,  nor  bewail  me ; 
Thou  in  the  Shadow  of  the  Rock  shalt  dwell, 

The  Rock  of  Strength.  —  Farewell !  ” 

Mrs.  Felicia  Hcmans. 


153 


HANNAH  AND  SAMUEL. 


prattling  child  she  brings  in  white  arrayed, 

Sorrow  and  joy  in  her  fond  heart  contending, 

)  heavenly  service  for  his  lifetime  lending, 

Far  from  her  sight,  the  son  for  whom  she  prayed. 

Each  year  “a  little  coat”  her  hands  had  made, 

She  brought  to  him  within  God’s  courts  attending. 

Each  hour  her  loving  heart  sweet  thoughts  was  sending 
To  that  fair  offering  on  God’s  altar  laid. 

But  richly  was  her  sacrifice  rewarded, 

When  to  her  holy  and  illustrious  son 
The  foremost  place  in  Israel  was  accorded; 

So  let  our  children  be  to  God  devoted 

In  prayerful  training  from  their  birth  begun, 

And  ’mid  heaven’s  thrones,  0,  may  their  names  be  noted  ! 

Rev.  R.  Wilton. 


154 


.'VVi  .?  </_  •  :  I 


ABIGAIL. 


Brochart,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


ABIGAIL,  WIFE  OF  DAVID. 

HE  marriage  of  tlie  lovely  Moabitess,  Ruth,  with  the 
noble  Boaz,  and  her  consequent  adoption  into  the 
family  of  the  faithful,  bore  in  time  auspicious  fruits. 
The  great-grandson  of  Ruth  was  David,  —  the  min¬ 
strel,  the  poet,  the  prophet,  the  warrior  and  king  of  the  Jewish 
nation,  —  the  man  after  God’s  own  heart,  chosen  to  stand  in 
poetic  song  as  the  type  of  the  future  Messiah  and  King  ot  the 
whole  earth. 

And  here  we  cannot  do  better,  to  answer  the  popular  but 
superficial  estimates  which  have  been  made  of  this  great  man, 
than  to  quote  a  sentence  or  two  from  Carlyle  :  — 

“  Who  is  called  the  man  after  God’s  own  heart ?  David  the 
King  fell  into  sins  enough,  —  blackest  crimes.  There  was  no 
want  of  sin,  and  therefore  unbelievers  sneer  and  ask,  Is  this 
your  man  after  God’s  own  heart  ?  The  sneer  I  must  say  seems 
to  me  but  a  shallow  one.  What  are  faults,  what  are  the  outer 
details  of  a  life,  if  the  inner  secrets  of  it  —  the  remorse,  tempta¬ 
tion,  the  often-baffled,  never-ended  struggle  of  it  —  be  forgotten  ? 
David’s  life  and  history  as  written  for  us  in  these  Psalms  of  his 
I  consider  to  be  the  truest  emblem  ever  given  of  a  man’s  moral 
progress  and  warfare  here  below.  All  earnest  souls  will  ever 
discern  in  it  the  faithful  struggle  of  an  earnest  human  soul  to- 
wards  what  is  good  and  best ;  struggle  often  baffled,  —  sore 
baffled,  driven  as  into  entire  wreck,  —  yet  a  struggle  never-ended, 
ever  with  tears,  repentance,  true  unconquerable  purpose,  begun 
anew.” 

The  history  of  Abigail  brings  us  directly  into  this  era  of 
David,  and  the  circumstances  under  which  he  wooed  and  won 
her  to  be  his  wife  carry  us  back  far  into  the  unsettled  and  forma¬ 
tive  period  of  human  society,  when  life  was  a  state  ot  warfare, 

155 


WOMAN-  IN’  SACKED  HISTORY. 

and  the  arm  of  the  warrior  was  the  last  appeal  in  every  contro¬ 
versy.  The  name  David  means  ivell  beloved,  or  darling,  given  to 
him  doubtless  as  the  youngest  of  a  large  family ;  and  through  all 
his  history  nothing  is  more  remarkable  than  that  warm  magnetic 
power  which  drew  all  hearts  towards  him  in  personal  affection. 
He  was  the  Loving  and  the  Beloved,  wherever  he  moved.  When 
Saul  conspired  against  his  life,  so  that  he  had  to  flee  like  an  out¬ 
cast,  the  son  of  his  oppressor  followed  him  to  the  desert,  with  a 
love  which  David  says  “passed  the  love  of  women,”  and  the 
daughter  of  Saul,  given  to  David  as  wife,  clung  to  him  with  un¬ 
shaken  constancy.  Cast  out  and  wandering,  David’s  personal 
attraction,  the  fame  of  his  military  exjdoits,  drew  men  to  his  stand¬ 
ard,  and  he  soon  became  a  chieftain  at  the  head  of  a  little  army. 

The  situation  resembled  that  of  a  highland  chief,  or  of  a  knight- 
errant  of  the  days  of  chivalry ;  and  David  appears  before  us  the 
gallant,  generous  leader,  at  once  the  minstrel  and  the  captain 
of  the  little  band  that  wandered  through  the  mountain  fastnesses 
of  Israel. 

They  encamp  in  the  mountain  regions  of  Paran,  near  the 
high  pasture-lands  of  Mount  Carmel,  where  the  elevated  plains 
and  ridges  are  covered  with  the  flocks  and  herds  of  a  rich  land- 
owner,  Nabal. 

So  far  from  allowing  any  predatory  liberties  with  these  wan¬ 
dering  flocks,  the  martial  leader,  remembering  his  own  peaceful 
early  shepherd  life,  seems  to  have  established  his  little  army  as  a 
guard  and  protection  around  the  flocks,  keeping  off  the  attacks  of 
wild  animals  and  of  hostile  tribes,  and  thus  fairly  entitling  him¬ 
self  to  some  return  of  courtesy. 

The  wealth  of  this  opulent  landholder  is  set  forth  in  the  story 
that  follows :  — 

“  There  was  a  man  in  Manon  whose  .possessions  were  in 
Carmel ;  and  the  man  was  very  great,  and  he  had  three  thousand 
sheep  and  a  thousand  goats,  and  he  was  shearing  his  sheep  in 
Carmel.  Now  the  name  of  the  man  was  Nabal,  and  the  name  of 
his  wife  Abigail ;  and  she  was  a  woman  of  a  good  understanding 
and  of  a  beautiful  countenance,  but  the  man  was  churlish  and 
evil  in  his  doings,  and  he  was  of  the  house  of  Caleb.” 

156 


ABIGAIL ,  WIFE  OF  DAVID. 

The  shearing-  of  the  sheep  in  those  countries  was  a  festive  time 
of  liberality,  and  David  took  advantage  of  it  to  seek  some  cour¬ 
teous  recognition  of  the  services  he  had  rendered. 

He  sent  a  party  of  young  men  with  this  message  :  “  Go  to 
Nabal,  and  greet  him  in  my  name,  and  thus  shall  ye  say  to  him 
that  livetli  in  prosperity :  Peace  be  both  to  thee  and  to  thy 
house,  and  peace  to  all  that  thou  hast.”  Then  comes  a  modest 
recital  of  their  friendly  services,  and  he  adds,  “Wherefore  let  my 
young  men  find  favor  in  thine  eyes,  for  we  come  in  a  good 
day.  Give,  I  pray  thee,  whatsoever  cometli  to  thy  hand  unto 
thy  son  David.” 

And  Nabal  answered  :  “  Who  is  David,  and  who  is  the  son  of 
Jesse  ?  there  be  many  servants  nowadays  that  break  away  from 
their  masters.  Shall  I  take  my  bread  and  my  water,  and  my 
flesh  that  I  have  killed  for  my  shearers,  and  give  it  unto  men 
whom  I  know  not  whence  they  be  ?  ” 

A  strongly  loving  nature  implies  a  strong  power  of  wrath,  just 
as  bright  light  is  correlated  with  deep  shadow.  The  ungenerous, 
brutal  insult  roused  the  indignation  of  David,  and  he  was  pro¬ 
ceeding  after  the  manner  of  his  times  to  take  signal  vengeance, 
when  the  courage  and  prudence  of  a  woman  turned  the  whole 
course  of  tilings,  as  is  thus  related  :  — 

“  But  one  of  the  young  men  ran  and  told  Abigail,  Nabal’s  wife, 
saying,  Behold  David  sent  messengers  out  of  the  wilderness  to 
salute  our  master,  and  he  railed  on  them.  But  now,  these  men 
were  very  good  to  us,  and  we  were  not  hurt,  neither  missed  we 
anything  so  long  as  we  were  with  them  in  the  fields.  They  were 
a  wall  unto  us,  both  night  and  day,  while  we  were  keeping  the 
sheep.  Now,  therefore,  know  and  consider  what  thou  wilt  do,  for 
evil  is  determined  against  our  master  and  against  all  his  household, 
for  he  is  such  a  son  of  Belial  that  a  man  cannot  speak  to  him.” 

This  character  of  Nabal,  sketched  with  a  few  broad  strokes,  is 
a  typical  one,  —  unhappily  but  too  common.  A  noble-minded, 
warm-hearted,  generous  woman  is  often  mated  with  a  hard,  close, 
surly,  ungenerous  man,  whose  ungracious  words  and  actions 
bring  enmity  upon  his  household. 

It  is  here  that  the  fineness  and  ready  tact  of  the  womanly 

157 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  JR  ED  IIISTOBY. 

nature  find  their  most  efficient  use.  What  the  wife  of  Nabal  did 
is  thus  told  :  — 

“  Then  Abigail  made  haste,  and  took  two  hundred  loaves,  and 
twro  bottles  of  wine,  and  five  sheep  ready  dressed,  and  five  meas¬ 
ures  of  parched  corn,  and  an  hundred  clusters  of  raisins,  and 
two  hundred  cakes  of  figs,  and  laid  them  upon  asses.  And  she 
said  to  her  servants,  Go  on  before  me  ;  and  she  told  not  her 
husband  Nabal.  And  it  was  so  as  she  rode  upon  the  ass  that  she 
came  down  by  the  covert  of  the  hill,  and  behold,  David  and  his 
men  came  down  against  her,  and  she  met  them.  And  when  Abi¬ 
gail  saw  David,  she  hasted  and  lighted  off  the  ass,  and  fell  before 
David,  and  bowled  herself  to  the  ground,  and  fell  at  his  feet  and 
said,  Upon  me,  my  lord,  upon  me  let  this  iniquity  be,  and  let  thy 
handmaid,  I  pray  thee,  speak  in  thine  audience,  and  hear  the 
words  of  thy  handmaid.  Let  not  my  lord,  I  pray  thee,  regard 
this  man  of  Belial,  even  Nabal,  for  as  his  name  is  so  is  he,  Nabal 
is  his  name,  and  folly  is  with  him ;  but  I,  thine  handmaid,  saw 
not  the  young  men  of  my  lord  whom  thou  didst  send.  Now  there¬ 
fore,  my  lord,  as  the  Lord  liveth,  and  as  thy  soul  liveth,  seeing 
the  Lord  hath  withholden  thee  from  coming  to  shed  blood,  and 
avenging  thyself  with  thine  own  hand,  now  let  thine  enemies  and 
they  that  seek  evil  to  my  lord  be  as  Nabal.  And  now  this  pres¬ 
ent  that  I  have  brought,  let  it  be  given  to  the  men  that  follow 
my  lord.  I  pray  thee,  forgive  the  trespass  of  thine  handmaid, 
and  the  Lord  will  certainly  make  my  lord  a  sure  house,  because 
my  lord  fighteth  the  battles  of  the  Lord,  and  evil  hath  not  been 
found  in  thee  all  thy  days.  Yet  a  man  is  risen  to  pursue  thee, 
and  to  seek  thy  soul ;  but  the  soul  of  my  lord  shall  be  bound  in 
the  bundle  of  life  with  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  the  souls  of  thine 
enemies  them  shall  he  sling  out  as  out  of  the  middle  of  a  sling. 
And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  when  the  Lord  shall  have  done  to  my 
lord  according  to  all  the  good  that  he  hath  spoken  concerning 
thee,  and  shall  have  appointed  thee  ruler  over  Israel,  that  this 
shall  be  no  grief  unto  thee,  nor  offense  of  heart  unto  my  lord, 
either  that  thou  hast  shed  blood  causeless,  or  that  my  lord  hath 
avenged  himself ;  but  when  the  Lord  shall  have  dealt  well  with 
my  lord,  then  remember  thine  handmaid.” 

158 


ABIGAIL, ,  WIFE  OF  DAVID. 

It  would  be  difficult  in  any  literature  to  find  more  dignity, 
sweetness,  bravery,  tact,  and  distinctively  womanly  nobility 
than  are  seen  in  this  address  ;  and  when  we  consider  that  it  was 
made  to  a  man  romantically  generous,  and  impulsively  alive  to 
every  noble  sentiment,  we  are  not  surprised  that  it  carried  all 
before  it. 

In  the  heat  of  his  first  indignation  at  the  meanness  of  Nabal, 
David  had  forgotten  his  better  self,  his  higher  ideal ;  but  the 
voice  of  this  beautiful  woman  restored  him  to  spiritual  sanity, 
and  he  promptly  and  ingenuously  acknowledged  his  fault,  and 
yielded  to  her  sway  :  — 

“And  David  said  to  Abigail,  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel, 
which  sent  thee  this  day  to  meet  me  ;  and  blessed  be  thy  advice, 
and  blessed  be  thou,  which  hast  kept  me  this  day  from  coming  to 
shed  blood,  and  from  avenging  myself  with  mine  own  hand.” 

The  remainder  of  the  story  is  soon  told  :  — 

“  So  David  received  of  her  hand  that  which  she  had  brought 
him,  and  said  unto  her,  Go  up  in  peace  to  thine  house  ;  see, 
I  have  hearkened  to  thy  voice,  and  have  accepted  thy  person. 
And  Abigail  came  to  Nabal ;  and  behold,  he  held  a  feast  in  his 
house  like  the  feast  of  a  king ;  and  Nabal’s  heart  was  merry 
within  him,  for  he  was  very  drunken ;  wherefore  she  told  him 
nothing,  less  or  more,  until  the  morning  light.  But  it  came  to 
pass  in  the  morning,  when  the  wine  was  gone  out  of  Nabal,  and 
his  wife  had  told  him  these  things,  that  his  heart  died  within  him, 
and  he  became  as  a  stone.  And  it  came  to  pass  about  ten  days 
after,  that  the  Lord  smote  Nabal,  that  he  died. 

“And  when  David  heard  that  Nabal  was  dead,  he  said,  Blessed 
be  the  Lord,  that  hath  pleaded  the  cause  of  my  reproach  from 
the  hand  of  Nabal,  and  hath  kept  his  servant  from  evil ;  for 
the  Lord  hath  returned  the  wickedness  of  Nabal  upon  his  own 
head.  And  David  sent  and  communed  with  Abigail,  to  take  her 
to  him  to  wife.  And  when  the  servants  of  David  were  come  to 
Abigail,  to  Carmel,  they  spake  unto  her,  saying,  David  sent  us 
unto  thee,  to  take  thee  to  him  to  wife.  And  she  arose,  and  bowed 
herself  on  her  face  to  the  earth,  and  said,  Behold,  let  thine  hand¬ 
maid  be  a  servant  to  wash  the  feet  of  the  servants  of  my  lord. 

159 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 

And  Abigail  basted,  and  arose,  and  rode  upon  an  ass,  with  five 
damsels  of  hers  that  went  after  her ;  and  she  went  after  the  mes¬ 
sengers  of  David,  and  became  his  wife.” 

We  see  in  this  little  story  what  is  the  truest,  best  power  and 
glory  of  woman,  —  the  power  to  control  the  stormy  passions  of 
man,  and  recall  him  to  his  higher  and  purer  self,  when  he  is 
swept  away  by  sudden  tides  of  temptation.  We  can  easily  be¬ 
lieve  that  it  was  not  the  last  time  in  the  history  of  David  when 
he  said  to  Abigail  what  every  husband  might  say  to  a  true  wife, 
—  ‘‘Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  which  sent  thee  to  me; 
and  blessed  be  thy  advice,  and  blessed  be  thou  !  ” 

The  era  of  David  was  the  cliivalric  period  of  Jewish  history. 
It  was  essentially  poetic  in  its  points  of  view,  and  can  only  be 
understood  by  throwing  ourselves  back  into  the  atmosphere  of 
those  days  of  imperfect  moral  development.  The  same  God  who 
has  willed  that  plants  and  animals  should  struggle  up  through 
ages  into  perfect  growths,  seems  also  to  have  meant  that  human 
virtue  should  struggle  through  the  ages  before  reaching  in  Jesus 
its  highest  type-form. 

In  David  the  elements  of  humanity  were  large  and  strong, 
and  only  partially  harmonized.  Lord  Bacon  says  that  revenge  is 
a  kind  of  “wild  justice”;  it  is  certainly  the  plant  which,  under 
Divine  gardening,  may  make  the  mighty  oak  of  justice  which  is 
needed  to  fortify  society.  The  loftier  impulse  of  forgiving  love 
has  also  its  place,  and  in  David’s  life  we  see  the  blessed  struggle 
between  the  two.  It  is  the  record  of  man  following  with  unequal 
and  halting  pace  the  footsteps  of  a  God. 

The  Psalms  contain  in  full  measure  those  cries  for  vengeance 
that  are  the  first  undisciplined  impulses  even  of  the  noblest 
nature  in  view  of  wrong.  But  they  contain  too  the  traces  of  that 
forgiving  tenderness  which  existed  in  equal  proportions.  When 
the  ungrateful  king,  who  had  hunted  David’s  life  and  made  him 
a  weary  outcast,  was  in  his  hands,  helpless  and  asleep,  twice  he 
spared  his  life,  and  deprecated  only  with  tender  and  reverential 
■words  the  injustice  done  to  him.  In  both  cases,  for  a  time  the 
heart  of  Saul  was  melted  by  the  magnanimous  love  of  David. 

When  Saul  was  slain,  David  mourned  him  with  a  generous  sor- 

160 


ABIGAIL,  WIFE  OF  DAVID. 

row  ;  he  wept  for  him  as  a  lover  for  his  beloved.  So  when  the 
ungrateful  son  Absalom  had  turned  against  him,  and  driven  him 
out  of  his  kingdom,  David’s  loving  heart  still  clung  to  him  :  “  Be 
very  gentle  to  the  young  man,  even  Absalom,”  was  his  charge. 
And  when  the  rebel  was  slain,  he  said,  “  Would  God  I  had  died 
for  thee,  O  Absalom,  my  son  !  ”  Ilis  disposition  to  love  and  for¬ 
giveness  of  so  bitter  and  dangerous  an  enemy  moved  the  indig¬ 
nation  of  fiery  old  Joab,  who  was  scandalized  at  this  bitter 
mourning  over  an  ungrateful  usurper :  “  Thou  hast  shamed  this 
day  the  faces  of  all  thy  servants,  which  this  day  have  saved  thy 
life,  in  that  thou  lovest  thine  enemies  and  liatest  thy  friends ;  for 
I  perceive  that  if  Absalom  had  lived  this  day,  and  all  we  had 
died,  it  had  pleased  thee  well.”  Do  we  not  see  in  all  this  how 
David  had,  in  bursts  and  gushes,  fragments  of  that  divine  love  of 
enemies  which  it  wras  left  for  his  celestial  descendant  more  per¬ 
fectly  to  manifest  ? 

The  dull  elements  of  the  diamond  gather  and  crystallize  slowly 
through  ages ;  so  traits  which  in  David  were  clouded  and  obscure 
by  earthly  defilement  shone  forth  in  the  Son  of  David  dazzling 
and  unalloyed. 

161 


DAVID. 


SUGGESTED  BY  A  STATUE. 

this  is  he,  —  the  bold  and  gentle  boy 
That  in  lone  pastures  by  the  mountain’s  side 
uarded  his  fold,  and  through  the  midnight  sky 
Saw  on  the  blast  the  God  of  battles  ride ; 

Beheld  his  bannered  armies  on  the  height, 

And  heard  their  clarion  sound  through  all  the  stormy  night. 

The  valiant  boy  that  o’er  the  twilight  wold 
Tracked  the  dark  lion  and  ensanguined  bear; 

Following  their  bloody  footsteps  from  the  fold 
Far  down  the  gorges  to  their  lonely  lair, — 

This  the  stout  heart  that  from  the  lion’s  jaw 

Back  o’er  the  shuddering  waste  the  bleeding  victim  bore. 

Though  his  fair  locks  lie  all  unshorn  and  bare 
To  the  bold  toying  of  the  mountain  wind, 

A  conscious  glory  haunts  the  o’ershadowing  air, 

And  waits  with  glittering  coil  his  brows  to  bind, 

While  his  proud  temples  bend  superbly  down, 

As  if  they  felt  e’en  now  the  burden  of  a  crown. 

Though  a  stern  sorrow  slumbers  in  his  eyes, 

As  if  his  prophet  glance  foresaw  the  day 
When  the  dark  waters  o’er  his  soul  should  rise, 

And  friends  and  lovers  wander  far  away, — 

Yet  the  graced  impress  of  that  floral  mouth 

Breathes  of  love’s  golden  dream,  and  the  voluptuous  South. 

Peerless  in  beauty  as  the  prophet  star 
That  in  the  dewy  trances  of  the  dawn 

162 


IJA  VID. 

Floats  o’er  the  solitary  hills  afar, 

And  brings  sweet  tidings  of  the  lingering  morn; 

Or,  weary  at  the  day-god’s  loitering  wane, 

Strikes  on  the  harp  of  light  a  soft  prelusive  strain. 

So  his  wild  harp,  with  psaltery  and  shawm, 

Awoke  the  nations  in  thick  darkness  furled, 

While  mystic  winds  from  Gilead’s  groves  of  balm 
Wafted  its  sweet  hosannas  through  the  world,  — 

So,  when  the  Dayspring  from  on  high  he  sang, 

With  joy  the  ancient  hills  and  lowly  valleys  rang. 

Ay,  this  is  he,  —  the  minstrel,  prophet,  king, 

Before  whose  arm  princes  and  warriors  sank ; 

Who  dwelt  beneath  Jehovah’s  mighty  wing, 

And  from  the  river  of  his  pleasures  drank  ; 

Or  through  the  rent  pavilions  of  the  storm 
Beheld  the  cloud  of  fire  that  veiled  his  awful  form. 

And  now  he  stands  as  when  in  Elah’s  vale, 

Where  warriors  set  the  battle  in  array, 

He  met  the  Titan  in  his  ponderous  mail, 

Whose  haughty  challenge  many  a  summer’s  day 
Rang  through  the  border  hills,  while  all  the  host 
Of  faithless  Israel  heard,  and  trembled  at  his  boast ; 

Till  the  light  stripling  from  the  mountain  fold 
Stood,  all  unarmed,  amid  their  sounding  shields, 

And,  in  his  youth’s  first  bloom,  devoutly  bold, 

Dared  the  grim  champion  of  a  thousand  fields : 

So  stands  he  now,  as,  in  Jehovah’s  might 
Glorying,  he  met  the  foe  and  won  the  immortal  fight. 

Mrs.  Sarah  //.  Whitman. 

163 


THE  CALL  OF  DAVID. 

ATEST  born  of  Jesse’s  race, 

Wonder  lights  thy  bashful  face, 

While  the  prophet’s  gifted  oil. 

Seals  thee  for  the  path  of  toil. 

We,  thy  Angels,  circling’  round  thee, 

Ne’er  shall  find  thee  as  we  found  thee, 

When  thy  faith  first  brought  us  near 
To  quell  the  lion  and  the  bear. 

Go  !  and  ’mid  thy  flocks  awhile 
At  thy  doom  of  greatness  smile; 

Bold  to  bear  God’s  heaviest  load, 

Dimly  guessing  of  the  road,  — 

Rocky  road,  and  scarce  ascended, 

Though  thy  foot  be  angel-tended. 

Twofold  praise  thou  slialt  attain 
In  royal  court  and  battle-plain  ; 

Then  comes  heartache,  care,  distress, 

Blighted  hope,  and  loneliness  ; 

Wounds  from  friend  and  gifts  from  foe, 

Dizzied  faith,  and  guilt,  and  woe ; 

Loftiest  aims  by  earth  defiled, 

Gleams  of  wisdom  sin-beguiled, 

Sated  power’s  tyrannic  mood, 

Counsels  shared  with  men  of  blood, 

Sad  success,  parental  tears, 

And  a  dreary  gift  of  years. 

Strange,  that  guileless  face  and  form 
To  lavish  on  the  scarring  storm  ! 

Yet  we  take  thee  in  thy  blindness, 

And  we  buffet  thee  in  kindness; 

Little  chary  of  thy  fame,  — 

Dust  unborn  may  bless  or  blame,  — 

But  we  mould  thee  for  the  root 
Of  man’s  promised  healing  Fruit, 

And  we  mould  thee  hence  to  rise, 

As  our  brother,  to  the  skies. 

J.  II.  Newman,  D.D. 

164 


HO'1/L;  ;  i  |:  1,1  n 


' 


WITCH  OF  ENDOR. 


Brochart,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith . 


THE  WITCH  OF  ENDOR. 


1  HAT  was  a  witch,  according  to  the  law  of  Moses,  and 
why  was  witchcraft  a  capital  offense  ?  A  witch  "was 
the  dark  shadow  of  a  prophetess. 

A  prophetess  wras  a  holy  woman  drawing  near  to 
the  spiritual  world  by  means  of  faith  and  prayer,  and  thus  in¬ 
spired  by  God  with  a  knowledge  beyond  the  ordinary  power  of 
mortals.  Her  prophecies  and  her  guidance  were  all  from  the 
only  true  source  of  knowledge ;  the  spirits  that  attended  her 
were  true  and  heavenly  spirits,  and  she  became  a  medium  by 
whom  the  will  of  God  and  the  perplexed  path  of  duty  were  made 
plain  to  others.  A  witch,  on  the  contrary,  wras  one  who  sought 
knowledge  of  the  future,  not  from  the  one  supreme  God,  but 
through  all  those  magical  charms,  incantations,  and  ceremonies 
by  which  the  spirits  of  the  dead  were  sought  for  interference  in 
the  affairs  of  men.  The  guilt  and  the  folly  of  seeking  these  con¬ 
sisted  in  the  fact  that  there  was  another  and  a  legitimate  supply 
for  that  craving  of  the  human  heart. 

Man  is  consciously  weak,  helpless,  burdened  with  desires  and 
fears  which  he  knows  not  how  to  supply  or  allay.  Moses  dis¬ 
tinctly  stated  to  the  Jews  that  their  God  was  11  nigh  unto  them 
for  all  they  should  call  upon  him  for.”  The  examples  of  holy 
men  and  women  in  sacred  history  show  that,  even  for  private 
and  personal  griefs,  and  intimate  sorrows  and  perplexities,  there 
was  immediate  access  to  the  gracious  Jehovah,  there  were  direct 
answers  to  prayer.  Had  Hannah,  in  her  childless  longings  and 
misery,  sought  a  woman  who  had  a  familiar  spirit,  she  would 
have  broken  the  law  of  the  land,  and  committed  an  act  of  rebel¬ 
lion  against  her  King  and  Father.  But  she  went  directly  to 
God,  and  became  a  joyful  mother. 

Besides  the  personal  access  of  the  individual  by  prayer,  there 


165 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HIS  TOBY. 

were  always  holy  mediums  raised  up  from  time  to  time  in  the 
nation,  who  were  lawful  and  appointed  sources  of  counsel  and 
aid.  There  were  always  the  prophet  and  prophetess,  through 
whom  there  was  even  nearer  access  to  the  guardian  God,  and  we 
repeatedly  read  of  application  made  to  these  sources  in  case  of 
sickness  or  sorrow  or  perplexity.  The  higli-priest,  by  virtue 
ot  his  office,  was  held  to  possess  this  power.  Exactly  what  the 
Urim  and  Thummim  were,  the  learned  do  not  seem  to  agree ; 
it  is  sufficient  to  know  that  they  were  in  some  way  the  instru¬ 
ments  of  a  lawful  mode  appointed  by  God,  through  which  ques¬ 
tions  asked  of  the  higli-priest  might  be  answered,  and  guidance 
given  in  perplexing  cases. 

And  now,  on  the  other  hand,  as  to  the  witch ,  and  how  her 
unlawful  processes  were  carried  on,  we  get  more  help  from  one 
vivid,  graphic  picture  than  by  all  the  researches  of  archaeologists. 
We  therefore  give  entire  the  singular  and  poetic  story  in  the 
First  Book  of  Samuel. 

“  Now  Samuel  was  dead,  and  all  Israel  had  lamented  him,  and 
buried  him  in  Ramah,  even  in  his  own  city.  And  Saul  had  put 
away  those  that  had  familiar  spirits,  and  the  wizards,  out  of  the 
land.  And  the  Philistines  gathered  themselves  together,  and 
came  and  pitched  in  Shunem :  and  Saul  gathered  all  Israel  to¬ 
gether,  and  they  pitched  in  Gilboa.  And  when  Saul  saw  the 
host  of  the  Philistines,  he  was  afraid,  and  his  heart  greatly 
trembled.  And  when  Saul  inquired  of  the  Lord,  the  Lord 
answered  him  not,  neither  by  dreams,  nor  by  Urim,  nor  by 
prophets.  Then  said  Saul  unto  his  servants,  Seek  me  a  woman 
that  hath  a  familiar  spirit,  that  I  may  go  to  her,  and  inquire  of 
her.  And  his  servants  said  to  him,  Behold,  there  is  a  woman  that 
hath  a  familiar  spirit  at  Endor.  And  Saul  disguised  himself,  and 
put  on  other  raiment,  and  he  went,  and  two  men  with  him,  and 
they  came  to  the  woman  by  night :  and  he  said,  I  pray  thee, 
divine  unto  me  by  the  familiar  spirit,  and  bring  me  him  up  whom 
I  shall  name  unto  thee.  And  the  woman  said  unto  him,  Behold, 
thou  knowest  what  Saul  hath  done,  how  he  hath  cut  off  those 
that  have  familiar  spirits,  and  the  wizards,  out  of  the  land :  where¬ 
fore  then  layest  thou  a  snare  for  my  life,  to  cause  me  to  die  ? 

166 


THE  WITCH  OF  END  OR. 

And  Saul  sware  to  her  by  the  Lord,  saying,  As  the  Lord  liveth, 
there  shall  no  punishment  happen  to  thee  for  this  thing.  Then 
said  the  woman,  Whom  shall  I  bring  up  unto  thee  ?  And  he 
said,  Bring  me  up  Samuel.  And  when  the  woman  saw  Samuel, 
she  cried  with  a  loud  voice  :  and  the  woman  spake  to  Saul,  say¬ 
ing,  Why  hast  thou  deceived  me  ?  for  thou  art  Saul.  And  the 
king  said  unto  her,  Be  not  afraid  ;  for  what  sawest  thou  ?  And 
the  woman  said  unto  Saul,  I  saw  gods  ascending  out  of  the  earth. 
And  he  said  unto  her,  What  form  is  he  of?  And  she  said,  An 
old  man  cometh  up  ;  and  he  is  covered  with  a  mantle.  And  Saul 
perceived  that  it  was  Samuel,  and  he  stooped  with  his  face  to  the 
ground,  and  bowed  himself.  And  Samuel  said  to  Saul,  Why  hast 
thou  disquieted  me,  to  bring  me  up  ?  And  Saul  answered,  I  am 
sore  distressed;  for  the  Philistines  make  war  against  me,  and  God 
is  departed  from  me,  and  answereth  me  no  more,  neither  by 
prophets,  nor  by  dreams :  therefore  I  have  called  thee,  that  thou 
mayest  make  known  unto  me  what  I  shall  do.  Then  said  Samuel, 
Wherefore  then  dost  thou  ask  of  me,  seeing  the  Lord  is  departed 
from  thee,  and  is  become  thine  enemy  ?  And  the  Lord  hath  done 
to  him,  as  lie  spake  by  me  :  for  the  Lord  hath  rent  the  kingdom 
out  of  thine  hand,  and  given  it  to  thy  neighbor,  even  to  David  : 
Because  thou  obeyedst  not  the  voice  of  the  Lord,  nor  executedst 
his  fierce  wrath  upon  Amalek,  therefore  hath  the  Lord  done  this 
thing  unto  thee  this  day.  Moreover  the  Lord  will  also  deliver 
Israel  with  thee  into  the  hand  of  the  Philistines :  and  to-morrow 
shalt  thou  and  thy  sons  be  with  me  :  the  Lord  also  shall  deliver 
the  host  of  Israel  into  the  hand  of  the  Philistines.  Then  Saul 
fell  straightway  all  along  on  the  earth,  and  was  sore  afraid,  because 
of  the  words  of  Samuel  :  and  there  was  no  strength  in  him  ;  for 
he  had  eaten  no  bread  all  the  day,  nor  all  the  night.  And  the 
woman  came  unto  Saul,  and  saw  that  he  was  sore  troubled,  and 
said  unto  him,  Behold,  thine  handmaid  hath  obeved  thy  voice, 
and  I  have  put  my  life  in  my  hand,  and  have  hearkened  unto  thy 
words  which  thou  spakest  unto  me :  now  therefore,  I  pray  thee, 
hearken  thou  also  unto  the  voice  of  thine  handmaid,  and  let  me 
set  a  morsel  of  bread  before  thee  ;  and  eat,  that  thou  mayest  have 
strength,  when  thou  goest  on  thy  way.  But  he  refused,  and  said, 

167 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HIS  TOBY. 

I  will  not  eat.  But  his  servants,  together  with  the  woman,  com¬ 
pelled  him,  and  he  hearkened  unto  their  voice.  So  he  arose  from 
the  earth,  and  sat  upon  the  bed.  And  the  woman  had  a  fat  calf 
in  the  house,  and  she  hasted,  and  killed  it,  and  took  flour,  and 
kneaded  it,  and  did  bake  unleavened  bread  thereof.  And  she 
brought  it  before  Saul,  and  before  his  servants  ;  and  they  did  eat. 
Then,  they  rose  up,  and  went  away  that  night.” 

We  do  not  need  to  inquire  what  a  witch  was,  or  why  she  was 
forbidden,  further  than  this  story  shows.  She  is  placed  here  as 
exactly  the  contrary  alternative  to  God,  in  the  wants  and  sorrows 
of  life.  The  whole  tenor  of  instruction  to  the  Jews  was,  that 
there  was  no  Divine  anger  that  might  not  be  appeased  and 
turned  away  by  deep,  heartfelt  repentance  and  amendment.  In 
the  great  name  revealed  to  Moses,  the  Jehovah  declares  himself 
“  merciful  and  gracious,  slow  to  anger,  of  great  kindness,  forgiv¬ 
ing  iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin,”  —  there  is  but  a  single 
clause  added  on  the  side  of  admonitory  terror,  —  “  who  will  by 
no  means  clear  the  guilty.”  A  favorite  mode  in  which  the  guar¬ 
dian  God  is  represented  as  speaking  is  that  he  “  repenteth  of  the 
evil  ”  he  thought  to  do,  in  response  to  penitent  prayer. 

Saul  had  broken  with  his  God  on  the  score  of  an  intense  self- 
will,  and  he  did  not  repent.  The  prophet  Samuel  had  announced 
wrath,  and  threatened  final  rejection,  but  no  humiliation  and  no 
penitence  followed.  In  this  mood  of  mind,  when  his  fear  came 
as  desolation,  all  the  avenues  of  knowledge  or  aid  which  belonged 
to  God’s  children  were  closed  upon  him,  and  he  voluntarily  put 
himself  in  the  hands  of  those  powers  which  were  his  declared 
enemies. 

The  scene  as  given  is  so  exactly  like  what  is  occurring  in  our 
day,  like  incidents  that  so  many  among  us  have  the  best  reason 
for  knowing  to  be  objectively  facts  of  daily  occurrence,  that  there 
is  no  reason  to  encumber  it  with  notes  and  comments  as  to  the 
probability  of  the  account.  The  woman  was  a  medium  who  had 
the  power  of  calling  up  the  spirits  of  the  dead  at  the  desire  of 
those  who  came  to  her.  She  is  not  represented  at  all  as  a  witch 
after  the  Shakespearean  style.  There  is  no  “  eye  of  newt  and  toe 

of  frog,”  no  caldron  or  grimaces  to  appall.  From  all  that  appears, 

168 


THE  WITCH  OF  END  OR. 

she  was  a  soft-hearted,  kindly,  cowardly  creature,  turning  a  penny 
as  she  could,  in  a  way  forbidden  by  the  laws  of  the  land ;  quite 
ready  to  make  up  by  artifice  for  any  lack  of  reality ;  who  cast  her 
line  into  the  infinite  shadows,  and  was  somewhat  appalled  by 
what  it  brought  up. 

There  is  a  tone  of  reproof  in  the  voice  of  the  departed  friend : 
“  Why  hast  thou  disquieted  me,  to  bring  me  up?”  And  when 
Saul  says,  “  God  hath  forsaken  us,  and  will  not  answer,”  the 
reproving  shade  replies,  u  Wherefore  come  to  me ,  seeing  God 
hath  become  thine  enemy  ?  ”  In  all  this  is  the  voice  of  the  true 
and  loyal  prophet,  who  from  a  child  had  sought  God,  and  God 
alone,  in  every  emergency,  and  ever  found  him  true  and  faithful. 

This  story  has  its  parallel  in  our  days.  In  our  times  there  is  a 
God  and  Father  always  nigh  to  those  who  diligently  seek  him. 
There  is  communion  with  spirits  through  Jesus,  the  great  Iligh- 
Priest.  There  are  promises  of  guidance  in  difficulties  and  sup¬ 
port  under  trials  to  all  who  come  to  God  by  Him. 

In  our  days,  too,  there  are  those  who  propose,  for  the  relief  of 
human  perplexities  and  the  balm  for  human  sorrows,  a  recourse 
to  those  who  have  familiar  spirits,  and  profess  to  call  back  to  us 
those  who  are  at  rest  with  God. 

Now,  while  there  is  no  objection  to  a  strict  philosophical  inves¬ 
tigation  and  analysis  and  record  of  these  phenomena  considered 
as  psychological  facts,  while,  in  fact,  such  investigation  is  loudly 
called  for  as  the  best  remedy  for  superstition,  there  is  great  dan¬ 
ger  to  the  mind  and  moral  sense  in  seeking  them  as  guides  in  our 
perplexities  or  comforters  in  our  sorrows.  And  the  danger  is  just 
this,  that  they  take  the  place  of  that  communion  with  God  and 
that  filial  intercourse  with  him  which  is  alone  the  true  source 
of  light  and  comfort.  Most  especially,  to  those  whose  souls  are 
weakened  by  the  anguish  of  some  great  bereavement,  is  the 
seeking  of  those  that  have  familiar  spirits  to  be  dreaded.  Who 
could  bear  to  expose  to  the  eye  of  a  paid  medium  the  sanctuary 
of  our  most  sacred  love  and  sorrow?  and  how  fearful  is  the 
thought  that  some  wandering  spirit,  in  the  voice  and  with  the 
tone  and  manner  of  those  dearest  to  us,  may  lead  us  astray  to 
trust  in  those  who  are  not  God  ! 

169 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


The  most  dangerous  feature  we  know  of  in  these  professed 
spirit-messages  is  their  constant  tendency  to  place  themselves 
before  our  minds  as  our  refuge  and  confidence  rather  than  God. 
“  Seek  us,  trust  us,  believe  in  us,  rely  on  us,”  —  such  is  always 
the  voice  that  comes  from  them. 

In  Isaiah  viii.  19,  the  prophet  describes  a  time  of  great  affliction 
and  sorrow  coming  upon  the  Jews,  when  they  would  be  driven 
to  seek  supernatural  aid.  He  says  :  “  And  when  they  shall  say 
unto  you,  Seek  unto  them  that  have  familiar  spirits,  and  to  wizards 
that  peep  and  mutter ;  should  not  a  nation  seek  unto  their  God  ? 
should  the  living  seek  unto  the  dead  ?  To  the  law,  and  to  the 
testimony ;  if  they  speak  not  according  to  this  word,  there  is  no 
light  in  them.”  The  prophet  goes  on  to  say  that  those  who 
thus  turn  from  God  to  these  sources  of  comfort  “  shall  be 
hardly  bestead  and  hungry,  and  shall  fret  themselves.” 

All  our  observation  of  those  who  have  sought  to  these  sources 
of  comfort  has  been  that  they  fall  into  just  this  restless  hunger 
of  mind,  an  appetite  forever  growing  and  never  satisfied  ;  and  as 
their  steps  go  farther  and  farther  from  the  true  source  of  all  com¬ 
fort,  the  hunger  and  thirst  increase.  How  much  more  beautiful, 
safe,  and  sure  that  good  old  way  of  trust  in  God !  The  writer 
has  had  a  somewhat  large  observation  of  the  very  best  and  most 
remarkable  phenomena  of  that  which  is  claimed  to  be  spirit 
communion ;  she  does  not  doubt  the  reality  of  many  very  re¬ 
markable  appearances  and  occurrences ;  she  has  only  respectful 
and  tender  sympathy  for  those  whose  heart-sorrows  they  have 
consoled.  But  Avlien  this  way  of  guidance  and  consolation  is  put 
in  the  place  of  that  direct  filial  access  to  God  through  Jesus 
which  the  Bible  reveals,  it  must  be  looked  upon  as  the  most  illu¬ 
sive  and  insidious  of  dangers.  The  phenomena,  whatever  they 
are,  belong  to  forces  too  little  understood,  to  laws  too  much  un¬ 
known,  that  we  should  trust  ourselves  to  them  in  the  most 
delicate,  critical,  and  sacred  wants  of  our  life. 

Better  than  all  is  the  way  spoken  of  by  Jesus  when  he,  the 
Comforter,  Guide,  Teacher,  Friend,  will  manifest  himself  to  the 
faithful  soul  as  he  does  not  to  the  world :  “  If  a  man  love  me, 
he  will  keep  my  words,  and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we 
will  come  and  make  our  abode  with  him.” 

170 


SAUL  AND  THE  WITCH  OF  ENDOR. 


HOU,  whose  spell  can  raise  the  dead, 
Bid  the  prophet’s  form  appear: 

“  Samuel,  raise  thy  buried  head ! 
King,  behold  the  phantom  seer !  ” 

Earth  yawned ;  he  stood  the  center  of  a  cloud : 
Light  changed  its  hue,  retiring  from  his  shroud. 
Death  stood  all  glassy  in  his  fixdd  eye ; 

His  hand  was  withered,  and  his  veins  were  dry ; 
His  foot  in  bony  whiteness  glittered  there, 
Shrunken,  and  sinewless,  and  ghastly  bare : 

From  lips  that  moved  not,  and  unbreathing  frame, 
Like  caverned  winds  the  hollow  accents  came. 

Saul  saw,  and  fell  to  earth,  as  falls  the  oak, 

At  once,  and  blasted  by  the  tlmndcr-stroke. 

“Why  is  my  sleep  disquieted? 

Who  is  he  that  calls  the  dead? 

Is  it  thou,  0  king?  Behold, 

Bloodless  are  these  limbs,  and  cold : 

Such  are  mine ;  and  such  shall  be 
Thine  to-morrow,  when  with  me : 

Ere  the  coming  day  is  done,- 
Such  slialt  thou  be,  such  thy  son. 

Fare  thee  well,  but  for  a  day, 

Then  we  mix  our  mouldering  clay. 

Thou,  thy  race,  lie  pale  and  low, 

Pierced  by  shafts  of  many  a  bow ; 

And  the  falchion  by  thy  side 
To  thy  heart  thy  hand  shall  guide : 

Crownless,  breathless,  headless,  fall 
Son  and  sire,  the  house  of  Saul !  ” 

Lord  Byron. 

171 


JEZEBEL 


B  ROC  HART,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


JEZEBEL,  THE  HEATHEN  QUEEN. 

N  direct  contrast  to  the  noble  and  beneficent  power  of 
good  women  in  the  sacred  history,  we  have  the  most 
vigorous  and  impressive  pictures  of  the  dangerous  side 
of  female  influence. 

In  fact,  in  the  long  struggle  with  idolatry  through  which  the 
Jewish  stock  was  gradually  educated,  and  brought  up  to  a  steady 
and  sublime  spiritual  conception  of  monotheism,  the  influence 
most  seductive,  and  most  dreaded  and  guarded  against,  was  that 
of  idolatrous  women. 

This  carefulness  was  the  more  essential,  as  the  idolatrous  sys¬ 
tems  of  the  surrounding  tribes  of  the  Canaanites  were  founded 
upon  the  most  unbridled  licentiousness.  The  worship  of  Baal 
and  Astarte,  the  god  and  goddess  of  the  Phoenicians  and  Sido- 
nians,  as  of  the  lesser  Canaanite  tribes,  was  characterized  by  rites 
of  the  most  disgusting  sensuality ;  and  the  influence  of  woman, 
as  then  employed,  led  to  the  utter  dissolution  of  the  family  state, 
and  the  gradual  extinction  of  the  race. 

This  sheds  light  on  what  otherwise  might  seem  the  severe  and 
even  cruel  decrees  of  extermination,  which  went  forth  against 
these  tribes.  It  was  a  question  between  the  existence  of  the 
Jewish  race  or  their  gradual  extinction  through  the  dissolving 
power  of  vice. 

The  philosophy  of  physical  laws  was  then  unknown.  The 
Jewish  race  were  to  be  kept  from  melting  into  the  deadly  cor¬ 
ruption  of  sensualism  that  surrounded  them,  only  by  a  constant 
and  unsparing  severity. 

Intermarriages  between  the  Jews  and  these  foreign  races  was 
strictly  forbidden,  except  in  instances  where  the  wife  renounced 
her  national  religion  and  adopted  that  of  her  husband,  as  in  the 
case  of  Ruth.  But  even  the  kings  of  Israel  were  often  forward 

173 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  RED  HISTORY. 


in  their  ambitious  schemes  to  form  these  entangling  alliances, 
and  thus  repeatedly  was  idolatry  introduced  under  royal  patron¬ 
age. 

Jezebel,  the  wife  of  Ahab,  is  the  most  striking  instance  of  this 
kind.  Her  portrait,  as  sketched  in  the  dramatic  vigor  of  the 
Hebrew  narrative,  is  as  striking  in  its  way  as  that  of  Lady  Mac¬ 
beth.  There  is  the  same  haughty  firmness,  the  same  unflinching 
cruelty  of  determination,  the  same  scorn  of  the  remains  of  virtu¬ 
ous  scruple  in  the  mind  of  her  husband. 

But  in  one  respect  there  is  a  difference :  Lady  Macbeth  strikes 
us  in  the  narrative  as  devoid  of  sensual  passion,  —  a  being  whose 
sins  are  wholly  of  the  intellect ;  Jezebel,  on  the  contrary,  appears 
as  a  sort  of  Lucretia  Borgia,  a  union  of  fierceness  and  cruelty 
with  seductive  licentiousness. 

Dean  Stanley  says  of  her:  “  She  was  a  woman  in  whom  with 
the  reckless  and  licentious  habits  of  an  Oriental  queen  were 
united  the  sternest  and  fiercest  qualities  inherent  in  the  Phoenician 
people.  Her  father,  Etlibal,  united  with  his  royal  office  the  priest¬ 
hood  of  the  goddess  Astarte,  and  had  come  to  the  throne  by  the 
murder  of  his  predecessor,  Thelles.” 

She  herself  became  the  center  of  a  propaganda  of  vices, — 
the  patroness  and  example  of  a  furious  fanaticism  of  evil.  The 
worship  of  her  gods  and  the  rites  of  her  religion  were  not  merely 
to  be  tolerated  in  Israel,  —  they  were  to  reign.  They  were  car¬ 
ried  through  the  land  at  the  point  of  the  sword.  The  prophets 
of  Jehovah  were  hunted  as  for  their  lives,  and  had  to  flee  to  the 
shelter  of  the  mountain  caves,  while  a  gorgeous  retinue  of  the 
priests  of  Baal  filled  the  courts  of  the  palace.  It  is  supposed  that 
no  less  than  four  hundred  of  the  prophets  of  Baal,  and  an  equal 
number  of  the  prophets  of  Astarte,  were  nourished  at  the  queen’s 
table.  To  all  human  appearance,  the  worship  of  Jehovah  was 
overthrown.  Ahab,  with  what  was  left  to  him  of  conscience  and 
fear  of  God,  was  but  a  puppet  in  the  hands  of  this  imperious, 
voluptuous,  brilliant  woman.  Her  name  became  a  proArerb  for 
the  fanaticism  of  licentiousness.  Thus  in  the  Book  of  Revelations 
the  name  Jezebel  is  given  to  a  female  teacher  professing  to  be 
a  prophetess,  and  teaching  licentious  doctrines :  I  have  a  few 

174 


JEZEBEL ,  THE  HEATHEN  QUEEN. 

things  against  thee,  because  thou  sufferest  “  that  woman  Jezebel, 
that  calleth  herself  a  prophetess,  to  teach  and  to  cause  my  servants 
to  commit  fornication,  and  to  eat  things  sacrificed  to  idols.” 

The  whole  history  of  the  conflict  of  the  Prophet  Elijah  with 
the  evil  force  of  this  woman  is  one  of  the  grandest  stories  of  the 
Old  Testament.  A  three  years’  drought  reduced  the  nation  to  the 
extremity  of  distress.  We  have  touching  pictures  in  detail  of 
what  that  distress  of  utter  famine  was.  The  poor  widow,  gather¬ 
ing  two  sticks  to  dress  her  last  handful  of  meal,  that  she  and  her 
son  might  eat  and  die,  is  an  image  that  sets  the  minutiae  of 
famine  before  us. 

Ahab  is  represented  as  not  hard-hearted,  or  devoid  of  con¬ 
science.  He  cannot  stand  up  against  his  overbearing  wife,  and 
yet  he  is  evidently  convicted  in  his  own  conscience  of  the  sin 
that  has  brought  all  this  misery  upon  the  land. 

“And  there  was  a  sore  famine  in  Samaria.  And  Ahab  called 
Obadiah,  which  was  the  governor  of  his  house.  (Now  Obadiah 
feared  the  Lord  greatly:  for  it  was  so,  when  Jezebel  cut  off  the 
prophets  of  the  Lord,  that  Obadiah  took  an  hundred  prophets, 
and  hid  them  by  fifty  in  a  cave,  and  fed  them  with  bread  and 
water.)  And  Ahab  said  unto  Obadiah,  Go  into  the  land,  unto  all 
fountains  of  water,  and  unto  all  brooks ;  peradventure  we  may 
find  grass  to  save  the  horses  and  mules  alive,  that  we  lose  not  all 
the  beasts. 

“  So  they  divided  the  land  between  them,  to  pass  throughout 
it :  Ahab  went  one  way  by  himself,  and  Obadiah  went  another 
way  by  himself.” 

It  appears  that  Elijah  as  the  representative  of  Jehovah  is  bit¬ 
terly  thought  of  by  Ahab  as  the  author  of  the  miseries  that  have 
come  upon  the  land.  During  his  wanderings  in  the  desert,  Ahab 
has  sent  everywhere  in  vain  to  seek  the  prophet ;  but  now,  sud¬ 
denly,  dark  and  awful,  Elijah  stands  before  him. 

“  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Ahab  saw  Elijah,  that  Ahab  said 
unto  him,  Art  thou  he  that  troubleth  Israel  ? 

“  And  he  answered,  I  have  not  troubled  Israel ;  but  thou,  and 
thy  father’s  house,  in  that  ye  have  forsaken  the  commandments 
of  the  Lord,  and  thou  hast  followed  Baalim.  Now  therefore  send, 

175 


WOMAN  IN  £.4 CRN I)  HISTORY. 

and  gather  to  me  all  Israel  unto  Mount  Carmel,  and  the  prophets 
of  Baal  four  hundred  and  fifty,  and  the  prophets  of  the  groves 
four  hundred,  which  eat  at  Jezebel’s  table. 

“  So  Ahab  sent  unto  all  the  children  of  Israel,  and  gathered 
the  prophets  together  unto  Mount  Carmel.  And  Elijah  came 
unto  all  the  people,  and  said,  How  long  halt  ye  between  two 
opinions  ?  if  the  Lord  be  God,  follow  him :  but  if  Baal,  then  fol¬ 
low  him.  And  the  people  answered  him  not  a  word.  Then  said 
Elijah  unto  the  people,  I,  even  I  only,  remain  a  prophet  of  the 
Lord  ;  but  Baal’s  prophets  are  four  hundred  and  fifty  men.  Let 
them  therefore  give  us  two  bullocks  ;  and  let  them  choose  one 
bullock  for  themselves,  and  cut  it  in  pieces,  and  lay  it  on  Avood, 
and  put  no  fire  under :  and  I  will  dress  the  other  bullock,  and  lay 
it  on  Avood,  and  put  no  fire  under.  And  call  ye  on  the  name  of 
your  gods,  and  I  will  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord ;  and  the  God 
that  ansAvereth  by  fire,  let  him  be  God.  And  all  the  people  an¬ 
swered  and  said,  It  is  well  spoken.” 

It  appears  that  the  extremity  of  national  distress  had  produced 
one  of  those  reflex  tides  in  which  the  nation  was  ready  for  any 
change  that  promised  hope.  It  would  seem  also  as  if  Jezebel, 
in  her  proud  belief  in  her  own  faith,  was  scornfully  willing  to  let 
the  trial  be  made.  Perhaps  she  deemed  it  the  most  sagacious 
way  of  diverting  the  rising  popular  tumult,  to  let  the  people  have 
the  amusement  of  a  solemn  pageant.  After  all,  it  was  a  pity  if 
her  eight  hundred  and  fifty  priests,  with  their  robes  of  office,  and 
their  timbrels  and  music  and  pomp  of  ceremony,  could  not  out¬ 
face  one  plain  stern  man  in  a  camel’s-hair  garment !  Let  him 
try  his  hand,  she  said,  in  haughty  security. 

We  have  noAv  a  most  graphic  picture  of  the  worship  of  Baal. 
His  altar  is  built,  the  offering  laid  thereon. 

“And  they  took  the  bullock  Avhich  Avas  given  them,  and  they 
dressed  it,  and  called  on  the  name  of  Baal  from  morning  even 
until  noon,  saying,  O  Baal,  hear  us.  But  there  was  no  voice,  nor 
any  that  answered.  And  they  leaped  upon  the  altar  which  was 
made.  And  it  came  to  pass  at  noon,  that  Elijah  mocked  them, 
and  said,  Cry  aloud ;  for  he  is  a  god ;  either  he  is  talking,  or  he 
is  pursuing,  or  he  is  in  a  journey,  or  peradventure  he  sleepeth, 

176 


JEZEBEL,  TIIE  HEATHEN  QUEEN. 

and  must  be  awaked.  And  they  cried  aloud,  and  cut  themselves 
after  their  manner  with  knives  and  lancets,  till  the  blood  gushed 
out  upon  them. 

“  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  midday  was  past,  and  they  proph¬ 
esied  until  the  time  of  the  offering  of  the  evening  sacrifice,  that 
there  was  neither  voice,  nor  any  to  answer,  nor  any  that  re¬ 
garded.” 

And  now  the  one  lone  man  who  stands  for  the  forsaken  Jeho¬ 
vah  speaks  to  the  people  :  “Come  near  unto  me”;  and  at  once 
they  all  flock  to  his  side  and  stand  around  him.  Then,  with 
twelve  stones  for  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel,  he  proceeds  to  build 
ajyain  the  loim-forsaken  altar  of  the  Lord.  It  was  the  altar  of 
the  God  of  their  fathers  and  mothers ;  the  altar  of  Him  who  had 
brought  Israel  out  of  Egypt,  who  had  led  them  through  the  wil¬ 
derness  by  cloud  and  fire  and  fed  them  with  manna,  who  had 
nourished  and  brought  them  up  as  children.  In  that  company 
were  probably  the  seven  thousand  whom  the  all-seeing  eye  had 
marked,  that  had  never  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal ;  and  with  a 
throbbing,  solemn  impulse  they  gather  round  the  prophet  and  aid 
the  holy  work.  The  altar  is  so  constructed  that  there  can  be  no 
deception;  it  is  repeatedly  so  drenched  with  water  that  nothing 
but  a  divine  fire  from  above  can  possibly  consume  the  sacrifice. 

And  now  came  on  the  hallowed  hour,  once  more  remembered, 
when  the  evening  sacrifice  was  wont  to  ascend  to  Jehovah  from 
his  temple;  and  the  solitary  prophet,  the  one  representative  of  the 
forsaken  religion,  approached  the  altar  and  said,  “  Lord  God  of 
Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  let  it  be  known  this  day  that 
thou  art  a  God  in  Israel,  and  that  I  am  thy  servant,  and  that  I 
have  done  all  these  things  at  thy  word.  Hear  me,  O  Lord,  hear 
me,  that  this  people  may  know  that  thou  art  the  Lord  God  that 
hast  turned  their  hearts  back  again.”  Then  from  heaven  the  fire 
of  the  Lord  fell,  and  consumed  the  burnt  sacrifice,  and  the  wood, 
and  the  stones,  and  the  dust,  and  licked  up  the  water  that  was  in 
the  trench.  And  when  all  the  people  saw  it,  they  fell  on  their 
faces  and  cried,  “Jehovah  —  he  is  God  !  Jehovah  is  God  !  ”  And 
Elijah  said,  “Take  the  priests  of  Baal:  let  not  one  escape.” 
And  they  took  them  to  the  brook  Kislion  and  slew  them  there. 

177 


WO  MAH  m  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 

And  now  the  long-delayed  rain-clouds  gather  welcome  black¬ 
ness  in  the  heavens,  and  Elijah  sends  the  joyful  news  to  Ahab  : 
“  Prepare  thy  chariot  and  get  thee  down,  that  the  rain  stop  thee 
not.  And  it  came  to  pass  that  the  heaven  was  black  with  clouds, 
and  there  was  a  great  rain.  And  Ahab  rode  and  went  to  Jezreel; 
and  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  upon  Elijah,  and  he  girded  up  his 
loins  and  ran  before  his  chariot  to  the  entrance  of  Jezreel.” 

Overjoyed  at  the  advent  of  rain  and  the  prospect  of  returning 
plenty,  Ahab  recounts  to  Jezebel  the  result  of  the  trial,  and  the 
overthrow  of  her  prophets.  For  the  moment,  the  Jew  asserts 
himself,  —  he  sympathizes  with  the  victory  of  his  father’s  re¬ 
ligion. 

But  when  Jezebel  hears  of  the  destruction  of  her  prophets,  she 
declares  her  dauntless  nature.  In  a  burst  of  rage,  sharp  and 
incisive  as  the  lightning,  she  sends  to  Elijah  the  message,  “  So 
let  the  gods  do  to  me,  if  I  make  not  thy  life  as  one  of  them  by 
to-morrow.”  It  is  evident  Ahab  dare  not  protect  him,  and  the 
prophet  of  Jehovah  is  once  more  an  outcast  fugitive.  The 
record  of  his  lonely  Avanderings,  his  discouragements  and  faint- 
ings,  and  angelic  visitings  and  communings  with  God  in  the 
wilderness,  are  among  the  most  touching  of  the  lessons  of  an¬ 
cient  Scripture.  As  Elijah  for  the  time  vanishes  from  the  scene, 
we  have  an  incident  which  sets  Jezebel  before  us  in  her  most 
repulsive  aspects. 

A  poor  man  owns  a  vineyard  near  the  king’s  garden.  The 
king  fancies  it  and  offers  to  buy  it ;  but  that  love  of  the  family 
homestead  so  peculiar  to  the  Jews  makes  the  owner  averse  to 
selling.  The  rest  of  the  story  can  only  be  told  as  it  stands  in 
the  text :  — 

“And  Naboth  said  to  Ahab,  The  Lord  forbid  it  me,  that  I 
should  give  the  inheritance  of  my  fathers  unto  thee.  And  Ahab 
came  into  his  house  heavy  and  displeased.  And  he  laid  him 
down  upon  his  bed,  and  turned  away  his  face,  and  would  eat  no 
bread.  But  Jezebel  his  wife  came  to  him,  and  said  unto  him, 
Why  is  thy  spirit  so  sad,  that  thou  eatest  no  bread!  And  he 
said  unto  her,  Because  I  spake  unto  Naboth  the  Jezreelite,  and 
said  unto  him,  Give  me  thy  vineyard  for  money ;  or  else,  if  it 

178 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 

Let  us  imagine  the  city  of  Jezreel  with  the  terraces  and  kiosks 
and  turrets  of  the  royal  palace  overtopping  the  wall,  and  com¬ 
manding  the  view  of  the  surrounding  plain.  There  the  proud, 
wicked  woman  still  reigns  in  her  pride  and  voluptuousness.  The 
doom  of  her  weak  husband  has  been  fulfilled.  The  dogs  have 
licked  his  blood  where  the  blood  of  Naboth  was  shed.  Elijah, 
the  prophet,  has  gone  to  the  bosom  of  that  God  for  whom  he  suf¬ 
fered  so  much,  but  the  sure  word  of  his  prophecy  does  not  fail. 

The  Prophet  Elisha  receives  a  command  to  go  and  anoint  the 
avenger,  who  shall  hasten  the  punishment  of  the  doomed  house. 
While  Jehu  is  sitting  at  meat,  a  prophet  calls  him  to  private 
interview,  which  is  thus  told :  — 

“  So  the  young  man,  even  the  young  man  the  prophet,  Avent 
to  Ramotli-gilead.  And  when  he  came,  behold,  the  captains  of 
the  host  were  sitting ;  and  he  said,  I  have  an  errand  to  thee,  0 
captain.  And  Jehu  said,  Unto  which  of  all  us?  And  he  said, 
To  thee,  0  captain.  And  he  arose,  and  went  into  the  house ;  and 
he  poured  the  oil  on  his  head,  and  said  unto  him,  Thus  said  the 
Lord  God  of  Israel,  I  have  anointed  thee  king  over  the  people  of 
the  Lord,  even  over  Israel.  And  thou  shalt  smite  the  house  of 
Ahab  thy  master,  that  I  may  avenge  the  blood  of  my  servants  the 
prophets,  and  the  blood  of  all  the  servants  of  the  Lord,  at  the 
hand  of  Jezebel.  For  the  whole  house  of  Ahab  shall  perish;  and 
I  will  make  the  house  of  Ahab  like  the  house  of  Jeroboam  the 
son  of  Nebat,  and  like  the  house  of  Baaslia  the  son  of  Ahijah; 
and  the  dogs  shall  eat  Jezebel  in  the  portion  of  Jezreel,  and 
there  shall  be  none  to  bury  her.  And  he  opened  the  door  and 
fled.” 

And  now,  anointed  to  a  mission  of  wrath,  Jehu  drives  forth 
with  his  train,  and  meets  first  Joram  the  son  of  Ahab. 

“  And  it  came  to  pass  when  Joram  saw  him,  he  said,  Is  it 
peace,  Jehu?  And  Jehu  said,  What  peace,  so  long  as  the  whore¬ 
doms  and  witchcrafts  of  thy  mother  Jezebel  are  so  many  ?  And 
Jehu  drew  a  bow  with  his  full  strength,  and  smote  Joram,  and 
the  arrow  went  out  at  his  heart,  and  he  sunk  down  in  his 
chariot.  Then  said  Jehu  to  his  chief  captain,  Take  him  up 

and  cast  him  on  the  portion  of  Naboth  the  Jezreelite!” 

180 


JEZEBEL,  THE  HEATHEN  QUEEN. 

And  now  the  avenging-  train  sweeps  on  to  Jezreel,  and  from  the 
window  of  a  lofty  overhanging  kiosk  Jezebel  sees  the  victor 
coining.  Evidently  swift  forerunners  had  told  of  the  slaughter 
of  her  son,  but  she  is  unappalled.  The  matchless  word-painting 
of  the  history  shall  be  left  to  tell  the  end  of  the  story. 

“And  when  Jehu  was  come  to  Jezreel,  Jezebel  heard  of  it,  and 
she  painted  her  face,  and  tired  her  head,  and  looked  out  at  a 
window.  And  as  Jehu  entered  in  at  the  gate,  she  said,  Had 
Zimri  peace,  who  slew  his  master?  And  he  lifted  up  his  face  to 
the  window,  and  said,  Who  is  on  my  side  ?  who  ?  And  there 
looked  out  to  him  two  or  three  eunuchs.  And  he  said,  Throw 
her  down.  So  they  threw  her  down  ;  and  some  of  her  blood  was 
sprinkled  on  the  wall,  and  on  the  horses ;  and  he  trode  her  under 
foot.  And  when  he  was  come  in,  he  did  eat  and  drink,  and  said, 
Go,  see  now  this  cursed  woman,  and  bury  her;  for  she  is  a  king’s 
daughter.  And  they  went  to  bury  her ;  but  they  found  no  more 
of  her  than  the  scull,  and  the  feet,  and  the  palms  of  her  hands. 
Wherefore  they  came  again,  and  told  him.  And  he  said,  This  is 
the  word  of  the  Lord,  which  he  spake  by  his  servant  Elijah  the 
Tishbite,  saying,  In  the  portion  of  Jezreel  shall  dogs  eat  the  flesh 
of  Jezebel ;  and  the  carcass  of  Jezebel  shall  be  as  dung  upon  the 
face  of  the  field  in  the  portion  of  Jezreel ;  so  that  they  shall  not 
say,  This  is  Jezebel.” 

181 


THE  END  FORETOLD. 


Scene.  —  The  garden  of  the  palace  at  Jezreel.  Time. 

Ahab  and  Jezebel. 


■After  the  murder  of  Naboth. 


Ahab. 

ES,  that  will  do.  A  road  can  softly  bend 
Round  yonder  swell,  and  so  approach  the  house. 
The  ground,  1  hear,  takes  kindly  to  all  sorts 
Of  useful  herbs,  far  kindlier  than  that 
Which  thus  we  rescue,  leaving  free  the  space 
Beneath  our  palace  windows  for  the  sweep 
Of  one  pure  curve  in  undulation  fine, 

Tree  leading  tree,  sward  brightening  into  flowers, 
Flowers  melting  modestly  again  to  green, 

In  placid  breadth  of  beauty.  Not  till  now 
Did  I  dare  hope  that  all  the  high-toned  joy 
Which  the  eye,  educated  to  a  sense  of  form 
And  hue  in  landscape,  avoos  into  the  soul, 

Could  glad  me,  looking  from  my  palace  Avhite 
O’er  the  SAveet  hills  and  plains  of  Jezreel. 

Jezebel. 

Ay,  and  to  whom  does  Ahab  oavc  all  this  ? 

Not  only  that  she  flung  the  froward  slave 

Who  barred  his  path,  like  carrion  ’neatli  his  Avhecl, 

But  that  in  princely  Sidon,  long  ago, 

She  shoAved  him  Avhat  Avas  beauty?  .Say,  my  lord, 
When  Argive  kings  and  chiefs  desire  to  send 
A  present  unto  one  they  honor  most 
Or  dearliest  love,  whether  a  woven  robe, 

Of  colors  blended  like  the  rose  and  snoAV 
Of  morning’s  earliest  blush,  or  goodly  vase 
Of  silver,  lipped  Avitli  gold,  and  of  a  form 
Compared  Avitli  which,  in  beauty’s  pricelessness, 

The  silver  and  the  gold  Avere  nothing  Avorth, 

Where  do  they  seek  it  ? 

Ahab. 

0,  I  knoAV !  but  uoav 
This  Jezreel  Avill  be  Sidon  ;  Avill  it  not, 

182 


THE  END  FORETOLD 

Mine  irresistible  ?  Hush  !  look  you  there, — 

A  cold  pang  thrills  me  through  from  head  to  heel,  — 
It  is  Elijah. 

Elijah. 

King  of  Israel, 

Give  car  unto  my  words.  Thus  saith  the  Lord  : 

Hast  thou  done  murder,  and  so  speedily 
Taken  possession?  Doth  the  innocent  blood 
Not  speak  to  me  against  thee  from  the  ground  ? 

I  will  bring  evil  on  thee  and  thy  house. 

Thy  branch  shall  wither.  Him  of  Allah’s  name 
That  dieth  in  the  city  dogs  shall  cat, 

And  him  that  falleth  in  the  field  the  fowls 
Shall  tear ;  and  in  the  place  where  Naboth  fell 
The  dogs  shall  dip  their  tongues  in  Ahab’s  blood. 

Jezebel. 

Thou  haggard,  rude,  and  frenzy-tainted  man, 

Ilow  dar’st  thou  thus  insult  thy  lord,  the  king  ? 

Elijah. 

I  have  a  message,  Jezebel,  for  thee. 

Jezebel. 

For  me?  —  I  do  defy  thee  and  thy  Jah  : 

Begone,  or  slaves  shall  whip  thee  from  the  place,  — 

A  public  scorn. 

Elijah. 

Cease  raging,  Jezebel ; 

1  see  the  quivering  of  thy  livid  lip 
And  thy  cowed  eye ;  the  Light  that  speaks  from  mine 
Hath  quelled  thee. 

Jezebel. 

Nay,  presume  not  then  too  far ; 
But  —  for  I  see  the  king  is  moved  —  I  will 
Consent  to  reason  with  thee.  Tell  me,  then, 

Why,  from  the  first,  when  I  was  young  and  came 
From  mine  own  people  and  my  land  to  be 
The  Queen  of  Israel,  cherishing  the  wish, 

Dei  ir  as  an  infant  growing  ’ncath  my  heart, 

That  my  adopted  country  should  rejoice 
And  prosper  in  my  reign,  thou  didst  assay 

183 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  HIST  OUT. 

To  do  me  wrong,  to  thwart  me,  to  o’erthrow 
Tlie  gods  I  worship  ? 

Elijah. 

Because,  from  the  first, 

Thou,  Queen  of  Israel,  madest  it  thine  aim 
To  quench  the  nation’s  vital  spark,  to  kill 
That  which  is  Israel’s  soul,  inbreathed  from  heaven  ; 
To  change  the  Hebrew  worshiper  of  One, 

A  Spirit,  infinite,  invisible, 

Into  a  heathen  bowing  reckless  down 
To  many  things  called  gods. 

Jezebel. 

Thou  knowest  well 
In  the  beginning  we  allowed  the  rite 
Of  Israel’s  God,  demanding  nothing  more 
Than  that  great  Baal  and  radiant  Ashtoreth 
Should  be  supremely  honored. 

Elijah. 

To  consent 

To  this  on  part  of  any  Israelite 
Had  been  the  deadliest  treason. 

Jezebel. 

Is  arrogance  a  virtue  ?  Hast  thou  heard 
That  there  is  sin  in  pride?  Why,  then,  do  ye, 

The  Hebrews,  sole  among  the  nations  spread 
Upon  the  equal  breast  of  mother  earth, 

Exclude  all  gods  except  your  own  ?  deny 
That  other  gods  exist  ?  refuse  to  share 
The  general  harmony,  and  to  extend 
That  courteous  tolerance  to  neighbor  gods 
Which  neighbor  peoples  do  not  grudge  to  yours  ? 

Elijah. 

A  nation  shall  be  true  unto  itself: 

An  alien  life  means  falsity  and  death. 

No  place,  no  name,  no  right  to  land  or  life, 

Hath  Israel,  save  as  chosen  by  the  Lord 
To  testify  for  him ;  to  set  the  fact 

184 


THE  END  FORETOLD. 

Of  his  existence,  oneness,  sovereignty, 

Massively  visible  before  the  world. 

0  Jezebel,  hadst  thou  but  known  thy  day, 

Hadst  thou  but  heard  the  voice  that  called  to  thee, 
When  thou,  still  young,  from  Sidon’s  coast  did  come 
To  reign  in  Israel ;  hadst  thou  loved  the  light, 

And  turned  from  idols  to  the  living  God ; 

Hadst  thou  been  wedded  truly  to  the  land, 

An  Israelite  indeed,  in  faith,  hope,  love ; 

0,  how  serene  with  Heaven’s  best  blessedness, 

How  richly  dowered  in  joy  of  doing  good, 

How  full  of  love  and  peace  thy  life  had  been  1 
A  Ruth  in  crowned  and  radiant  graciousness, 

A  Deborah  in  regal  strength  of  soul ; 

Around  thee,  as  we  learned  to  love  thee  well, 

The  air  would  all  have  rung  with  welcoming ; 

Thy  voice  and  that  of  Ahab  would  have  been 
A  rallying  sound  to  bring  again  to  one 
Our  Ephraim  and  Judah’s  scattered  flock  ; 

And  glory  brighter  than  of  David’s  throne 
Had  beamed  from  Dan  even  to  Beersheba. 

And  now  thy  day  is  past;  thy  night  draws  near. 

Jezebel. 

I  will  no  longer  speak  with  thee  :  begone ! 

Elijah. 

But  I  must  speak,  and  thou  shalt  hear,  thy  doom. 
Ere  many  moons  had  seen  thee  Israel’s  queen, 

With  impious  cruelty  thou  dipp’dst  thy  hand 
In  blood  of  God’s  own  prophets.  Far  away 
In  Gilead,  where  I  dwelt  in  peacefulness, 

The  mighty  wail  of  Israel  reached  mine  cars 
Over  the  prophets  fallen.  Since  that  day, 

With  cruel  wile,  with  steadfast  subtlety, 

With  dark  Satanic  sorcery,  thou  hast  striven 
To  make  this  people  unclean  as  thyself ; 

And  last  and  worst,  because  a  poor,  brave  man, 

True  to  himself,  his  land,  his  God,  was  bold 
To  face  the  king  as  free  man  ought  to  face, 

And  to  deny  his  covetous  request, 

Thou  hast  most  basely  murdered  him. 

1 85 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  MIST  UK  Y. 

Jezebel. 

Nay,  tins 

Is  all  too  much.  My  lord,  my  husband,  what ! 

Dost  thou  stand  by  and  hear  me  thus  reviled? 

This  fellow  is  a  rebel,  and  would  raise 
Commotion  in  the  land,  and  bid  the  folk 
Forget  their  duty  unto  thee  and  me. 

Elijah. 

Woman,  when  such  as  thou  is  on  the  throne, 

It  is  not  sacrifice  of  lamb  or  kid, 

It  is  not  prayer  at  morn  or  eventide, 

That  is  a  people’s  service  worthiest 
Of  God  s  acceptance.  No.  It  is  to  leave 
The  babe  in  crib,  the  lamb  within  the  fold, 

The  priest  beside  the  altar,  and  to  draw 

The  sword  of  vengeanee,  spread  the  flag,  and  preach 

God’s  message  of  revolt.  Hush  !  Hear  me  still. 

Thus  saith  the  Lord  : 

From  that  same  tower  where  thou  so  oft  has  planned 
Thy  sacrilegious  murders,  plotted  oft 
Against  the  God  of  Israel,  reveled  wild 
In  guilt  adulterous,  thou  shalt  be  hurled 
Down  headlong,  shrieking  in  thy  mad  despair. 

Horse-hoofs  shall  trample  on  thy  crashing  bones. 

Dogs  licked  the  blood  of  Naboth ;  but  his  limbs 
Were  stiff1  and  cold  before  they  came  to  him. 

Whilst  thou  art  quivering  in  the  pangs  of  death, 

While  ear  still  hears  and  flesh  still  feels,  the  dogs 
Shall  rush  upon  thee,  rend  thee,  tear  thy  flesh. 

And  drink  thy  blood. 

Jezebel. 

Inhuman  savage,  peace  ! 

She  dravjs  a  dxigger  from  her  girdle  and  flics  at  him,  attempting  to  stab  him.  He  disappears. 

Where  is  he  ?  Gone  !  0  that  this  biting  steel 

Had  pierced  his  heart ! 

Well  ?  good  my  lord  the  king, 

Your  knees  still  knock  together?  Prithee  look 
A  little  like  a  man.  How  I  despise  thee ! 


Abridged  from  “The  Days  of  Jezebel,”  by  Peter  Bayne. 
186 


' 

\  \1 


THE  CAPTIVE  MAID. 


Landelle,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


THE  LITTLE  MAID  OF  ISRAEL. 

[E  Old  Testament  history  lias  here  and  there  glimpses 
of  romantic  narrative,  which  open  like  flowery  val¬ 
leys  among  Alpine  ranges.  One  of  the  prettiest  of 
these  is  the  record  of  a  little  captive  Judaean  girl,  who 
had  been  taken  and  carried  into  slavery  by  a  guerilla  party  of 
Syrians.  The  story  is  so  brightly  and  dramatically  given  in  the 
Bible,  that  it  is  a  living  picture  of  those  far-off  ages. 

In  it  we  see,  first,  how  the  characteristic  energy,  brightness, 
and  vigor  of  the  Jewish  female  character  come  out  even  in  this 
nameless  captive  child.  Her  quickness  and  ready  wit  had  ap¬ 
parently  gained  for  her  a  confidential  position  near  the  wife  of 
the  highest  lord  of  the  Syrian  court,  and,  like  the  child  Miriam 
before  the  princess  of  Egypt,  she  is  forward,  prompt,  and  busy 
with  sim^estion  and  advice. 

The  great  man  to  whose  household  she  belonged,  the  prime 
minister  and  chief  counselor  of  the  king,  was  afflicted  with  the 
worst  form  of  incurable  leprosy.  So  the  text  says:  — 

“  And  the  Syrians  had  gone  out  by  companies,  and  had 
brought  away  captive  out  of  the  land  of  Israel  a  little  maid  ; 
and  she  waited  on  Naaman’s  wife.  And  she  said  unto  her  mis¬ 
tress,  Would  God  my  lord  were  with  the  prophet  that  is  in 
Samaria !  for  he  would  recover  him  of  his  leprosy.  And  one 
went  in  and  told  this  lord,  saying,  Thus  and  thus  saith  the  maid 
that  is  of  the  land  of  Israel.” 

We  can  see  in  this  story  that  the  maid  is  an  indulged  pet  in 
the  establishment,  free  to  speak  her  own  little  mind,  and  that  she 
speaks  in  a  way  that  attracts  attention  and  wins  respect.  The 
whole  power  and  flavor  of  a  mighty  oak  is  in  every  acorn,  and 
this  little  seed  of  the  Judaean  stock  carried  the  whole  national 
dignity  in  her  heart.  Her  people,  she  remembered,  had  a  refuge 

187 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

in  sucli  troubles,  —  tlie  power  of  Almiglity  God  to  heal  and  save 
was  always  vested  in  some  mighty  prophet,  —  and  0,  would  to 
God  that  her  master  were  with  the  Prophet  in  Samaria ! 

The  reported  words  are  caught  up  with  the  eagerness  with 
which  the  drowning  catch  at  straws.  Leprosy  to  all  ancient 
medicinal  means  was  incurable ;  it  was  a  way  to  death,  slow, 
agonizing,  and  certain.  The  reputation  of  the  Jews  for  miracu¬ 
lous  wonders  was  current  among  surrounding  nations,  and  the 
thing  applicated  to  one  of  these  prophets  is  deemed  worth  a 
trial. 

The  King  of  Syria  now  appears  in  the  foreground.  Israel  is  his 
conquered  tributary  province,  and  if  there  is  any  healing  to  be 
had  there  he  will  order  it  up  for  his  favorite.  A  splendid  caravan 
is  mustered,  and  with  ten  talents  of  silver,  and  six  thousand 
pieces  of  gold,  and  ten  changes  of  raiment,  and  a  letter  from  the 
King  of  Syria  to  his  vassal  the  King  of  Israel,  the  great  lord 
journeys  forth.  The  letter  of  the  king  is  brief  and  to  the  point : 
“  Behold  I  have  herewith  sent  N aaman  my  servant  unto  thee 
that  thou  mayest  recover  him  of  his  leprosy.” 

Aliab,  King  of  Israel,  was  a  timorous,  cowardly  man,  con¬ 
sciously  out  of  favor  with  the  God  of  his  people,  and  with  the 
Prophet  who  represented  him  at  this  time  ;  so  he  rent  his  clothes 
and  said,  “  Am  I  God,  to  kill  and  to  make  alive,  that  this  man 
doth  send  unto  me  to  recover  a  man  from  his  leprosy  ?  See,  how 
he  seeketh  a  quarrel  against  me  !  ” 

And  when  Elisha,  the  man  of  God,  heard  that  he  had  rent  his 
clothes,  he  sent  to  the  king,  saying,  “  Wherefore  hast  thou  rent 
thy  clothes  ?  Let  him  come  now  to  me,  and  he  shall  know  that 
there  is  a  Prophet  in  Israel.” 

Next,  we  have  the  scene  where  the  prince,  with  his  splendid 
caravan,  is  drawn  up  before  the  house  of  the  Prophet. 

Without  even  coming  to  the  door,  the  Prophet  simply  sends 
the  message:  “Go  and  wash  in  Jordan  seven  times,  and  thy 
flesh  shall  come  again  to  thee,  and  thou  shalt  be  clean.” 

The  lordly  negligence  of  the  message  roused  the  indignation 
of  the  prince,  —  “I  thought  he  would  come  out  to  me,  and  stand 
and  call  on  the  name  of  Jehovah  his  God,  and  strike  his  hand 

188 


THE  LITTLE  MAID  OF  ISRAEL. 

over  the  place  and  recover  the  leper.  Are  not  Abana  and  Phar- 
par,  rivers  of  Damascus,  better  than  all  the  waters  of  Israel  ? 
may  I  not  wash  in  them  and  be  clean  H  ”  So  he  turned  and  went 
a  way  in  a  rage. 

We  have  a  beautiful  specimen  of  the  domestic  character  of 
Oriental  servitude  in  the  language  of  his  servant  to  the  great  man 
on  this  occasion  :  — 

“My  father,  if  the  prophet  had  bid  thee  do  some  great  thing, 
wonldst  thou  not  have  done  it  ?  how  much  rather  then,  when  he 
saitli  unto  thee,  Wash  and  be  clean  !  ” 

The  good  sense  and  fidelity  of  this  rebuke  is  silently  acknowl¬ 
edged,  the  Prophet’s  command  obeyed,  and  in  all  the  glow  of 
restored  life  and  health,  the  grateful  prince  comes  back  once 
more  to  the  door  of  the  Prophet.  lie  comes  with  gifts,  offerings 
of  boundless  gratitude  ;  but  the  Prophet  will  take  nothing.  The 
grace  of  God  is  to  be  given,  but  can  never  be  bought.  For  a 
prophet  of  Jehovah  to  accept  a  reward  for  the  mercy  dispensed 
through  him  was  sacrilege  ;  and  though  the  prince  urged  with  the 
passionate  enthusiasm  of  gratitude,  the  Prophet  was  inflexible. 

The  story  now  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  the  ignoble  side  of  the 
Jewish  character,  the  selfish  trading  shrewdness  which  has  made 
the  name  of  the  Jew  a  proverb.  Geliazi,  the  servant  of  the 
Prophet,  however,  will  find  his  types  in  many  a  Yankee  village, 
— a  man  without  moral  delicacy,  incapable  of  seeing  that  there 
is  anything  too  sacred  to  become  a  matter  of  trade  and  barter. 
1 1  is  master,  in  his  view,  has  let  slip  an  opportunity,  but  there  is 
no  reason  why  he  should  not  turn  an  honest  penny ! 

He  pursues  the  grateful  chief,  and  with  a  feigned  tale  of  the 
sudden  arrival  of  guests  to  his  master,  proposes  to  accept  some 
of  the  offered  wealth,  and,  having  drawn  largely  on  the  generosity 
of  the  prince,  he  returns  quietly  with  his  ill-gotten  spoils  to  his 
master’s  presence.  The  rest  of  the  story  is  a  most  thrilling  pic¬ 
ture  of  what  manner  of  man  a  Judaean  prophet  was :  — 

lie  went  in  and  stood  before  his  master.  And  Elisha  said  to 
him,  “  Whence  comest  thou,  Geliazi  ?  ”  And  he  said,  “  Thy  ser¬ 
vant  went  no  whither.”  And  he  said  unto  him,  “  Went  not  my 
heart  with  thee,  when  the  man  turned  again  from  his  chariot  to 

1S9 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  11  ED  HISTORY. 

meet  thee  ?  ”  Then,  in  'shew  of  the  oppressed  and  humbled  con¬ 
dition  of  Israel,  he  adds,  “Is  it  a  time  to  receive  money,  and  to 
receive  garments,  and  olive-yards,  and  vineyards,  and  sheep, 
and  oxen,  and  menservants,  and  maidservants  ?  The  leprosy, 
therefore,  of  Naaman  shall  cleave  unto  thee,  and  to  thy  seed 
forever.” 

And  he  went  out  from  his  presence  a  leper  as  white  as  snow. 

Such  was  the  Divine  estimate  of  the  guilt  of  turning  the  sacred 
prophetic  office  into  a  matter  of  gain. 

This  story  bears  such  evident  moral  application,  there  are  in 
it  such  similitudes  to  certain  crises  in  every  human  history,  that 
it  might  almost  be  taken  for  a  sacred  allegoiy  or  myth,  —  the 
graceful  dress  of  a  universal  truth.  As  such  it  has  always  been 
used  in  the  Church. 

The  soul  seeking  relief  from  the  deep,  unappeasable  anguish  of 
conscious  moral  degradation,  weakness,  and  corruption,  comes  to 
the  Prophet  of  the  Lord.  When  the  refuge  and  the  remedy  are 
pointed  out,  how  often  does  the  very  simplicity  of  the  process 
prove  a  stumbling-block  !  “To  give  the  soul  up  with  the  faith 
of  a  little  child  to  the  cleansing  love  of  Christ.”  How  appar¬ 
ently  simple,  and  yet  how  many  shrink  back  from  it !  Rites, 
ceremony,  rituals,  sacraments,  penances,  —  all  the  “  rivers  of 
Damascus  ”  seem  better  than  this  one  simple  Jordan  of  faith. 
They  will  do  some  great  thing,  but  this  simple  internal  act  of 
self-surrender  they  cannot  bring  themselves  to. 

The  hero  of  this  story  was  a  heathen  lord,  who  at  first,  cer¬ 
tainly,  regarded  the  Jehovah  of  Israel  only  as  one  of  the  many 
gods  that  divided  the  earth.  There  are  not  wanting  those  in  our 
day  who  have  gone  back  to  the  old  heathen  stand-point:  the 
living  God  revealed  in  the  Bible  is  only  one  of  the  many  gods 
of  antiquity,  the  patron  of  the  old  Hebrews;  the  Jordan  is  no 
more  than  any  other  little  muddy  rivulet.  But  when  the  soul 
comes  in  its  thirst  and  its  fever  and  its  restlessness,  and  demands 
peace  and  joy  and  hope,  and  assurance  of  eternal  life,  how  is  it 
to  be  given  ?  Does  any  book  but  the  Bible,  any  God  but  the 
living  Jehovah,  promise  peace  that  passeth  understanding  ?  And 
can  anything  short  of  this  be  health  and  soundness  ? 

190 


THE  LITTLE  MAID  OF  ISRAEL. 

What  became  of  the  little  daughter  of  Zion  who  figures  so 
happily  in  this  narrative,  we  hear  not.  That  the  Prince  became 
a  grateful  worshiper  of  Jehovah  is  apparent  from  the  story; 
and  it  is  not  too  much  to  suppose  that  around  this  little  maiden 
might  have  gathered  a  cluster  of  converts  to  the  faith  which  had 
wrought  such  wonders  for  her  master. 

191 


NAAMAN’S  SERVANT. 


)  for  the  like  of  me  will  eare  ?  ” 

So  whispers  many  a  mournful  heart, 
fhen  in  the  weary,  languid  air, 

For  grief  or  scorn  we  pine  apart. 

So  haply  mused  yon  little  maid, 

From  Israel’s  breezy  mountain  borne, 

No  more  to  rest  in  Sabbath  shade, 

Watching  the  free  and  waving  corn. 

A  captive  now,  and  sold  and  bought, 

In  the  proud  Syrian’s  hall  she  waits, 

Forgotten,  —  such  her  moody  thought,  — 

Even  as  the  worm  beneath  the  gates. 

Cut  One  who  ne’er  forgets  is  here : 

He  hath  a  word  for  thee  to  speak ; 

0  serve  him  yet  in  duteous  fear, 

And  to  thy  Gentile  lord  be  meek  ! 

So  shall  the  healing  Name  be  known 
By  thee  on  many  a  heathen  shore, 

And  Naaman  on  his  chariot  throne 
Wait  humbly  by  Elisha’s  door. 

By  thee  desponding  lepers  know 
The  sacred  water’s  seven-fold  might ; 

Then  wherefore  sink  in  listless  woe  ? 

Christ ’s  poor  and  needy  claim  your  right ; 

Your  heavenly  right  to  do  and  bear 
All  for  his  sake ;  nor  yield  one  sigh 

To  pining  doubt ;  nor  ask,  “  What  care 
In  the  wide  world  for  such  as  I  ?  ” 


192 


John  Kcblc. 


THE  SYRIAN  CAPTAIN. 

wash  in  Jordan’s  limpid  stream,” 

'f  old  the  holy  prophet  said  ; 

Its  waves  with  healing  virtue  teem, 

iltli  and  purity  they  spread.” 

The  Syrian  captain  vainly  thought 
The  streams  his  native  land  supplied 

Might  yield  the  benefit  lie  sought, 

And  rival  Israel’s  fairest  tide. 

Too  little  for  his  courtly  gait 

The  simple  rule  Elisha  gave, 

Nothing  to  suit  his  sumptuous  state 
He  saw  in  Jordan’s  flowing  wave. 

Incensed,  he  turned  his  steps  aside, 

“  And  is  this  all  ?  ”  disdainful  said,  — 

“  Some  greater  thing  he  might  have  tried, 
And  on  the  place  his  hand  have  laid. 

“  Abana’s,  —  Pharpar’s  rivers  flow, 

With  health  and  healing  influence  filled ; 

In  them  I  ’ll  bathe  my  limbs,  and  show 
The  powerful  virtue  which  they  yield.” 

His  humble  menials  wiselier  deem, 

Urge  him  to  prove  the  small  command  ; 

And  now  emerging  from  the  stream, 

In  fairest  health  they  see  him  stand. 

The  Syrian  captain's  case  is  ours  :  — 

We  scorn  to  wash  in  Jordan’s  wave, 

And  fancy  our  own  boasted  powers 
From  woe  and  from  disease  will  save. 

193 


And  h 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

Let  us  inquire,  in  humble  faith, 

W  hat  waters  may  effectual  be 

To  save  us  from  the  power  of  death, 
From  sickness  and  from  sorrow  free. 

Let  all  who  hail  the  gospel  light 
Our  greater  Prophet  hear  and  live, 

No  substituted  splendid  rite 
Can  holy  absolution  give. 

Rivers  of  oil,  or  wine,  poured  forth, 

Shall  fail  to  wash  the  soul  from  sin  ; 

Rich  sacrifice  is  nothing  worth 

To  heal  the  wound  the  heart  within. 

The  Captain  of  our  hope  and  faith 
Obeyed  the  Father’s  will  and  died  ; 

He  died  an  ignominious  death, 

Was  persecuted,  crucified  ! 

His  followers  now  his  cross  must  wear, 
Must  tread  the  suffering  path  he  trod ; 

If  rough  the  road,  and  full  of  care, 

The  end  is  safe,  —  it  leads  to  God. 


i 


QUEEN  ESTHER. 


Boulanger,  Pinx. 


Jehenne.  Lith. 


/ 


QUEEN  ESTHER. 

HE  story  of  Esther  belongs  to  that  dark  period  in  Jew¬ 
ish  history  when  the  national  institutions  were  to  all 
human  view  destroyed.  The  Jews  were  scattered  up 
and  down  through  the  provinces  captives  and  slaves, 
with  no  rights  but  what  their  conquerors  might  choose  to  give 
them.  Without  a  temple,  without  an  altar,  without  a  priesthood, 
they  could  only  cling  to  their  religion  as  a  memory  of  the  past, 
and  with  some  dim  hopes  for  the  future.  In  this  depressed  state, 
there  was  a  conspiracy,  armed  by  the  regal  power,  to  exterminate 
the  whole  race,  and  this  terrible  danger  was  averted  by  the  beau¬ 
ty  and  grace,  the  courage  and  prudence,  of  one  woman.  The 
portrait  of  this  heroine  comes  to  us  in  a  flush  of  Oriental  splen¬ 
dor.  Her  story  reads  like  a  romance,  yet  her  memory,  in  our 
very  prosaic  days,  is  embalmed  as  a  reality,  by  a  yearly  festival 
devoted  to  it.  Every  year  the  festival  of  Purim  in  every  land 
and  country  whither  the  Jews  are  scattered,  reminds  the  world 
that  the  romance  has  been  a  reality,  and  the  woman  whose 
beauty  and  fascination  were  the  moving  power  in  it  was  no 
creation  of  fancy. 

The  style  of  the  book  of  Esther  is  peculiar.  It  has  been  held 
by  learned  Jews  to  be  a  compilation  made  by  Mordecai  from  the 
Persian  annals.  The  name  of  Jehovah  nowhere  occurs  in  it, 
although  frequent  mention  is  made  of  fasting  and  prayer.  The 
king  Almsuerus  is  supposed  by  the  best  informed  to  be  the 
Xerxes  of  Herodotus,  and  the  time  of  the  story  previous  to  the 
celebrated  expedition  of  that  monarch  against  Greece.  The  hun¬ 
dred  and  twenty-seven  provinces  over  which  he  reigned  are  pic- 
turesquely  set  forth  by  Herodotus  in  his  celebrated  description 
of  the  marshaling  of  this  great  army.  The  vanity,  ostentation, 
childish  passionateness,  and  disregard  of  human  life  ascribed  to 

1 95 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 

the  king-  ill  this  story  are  strikingly  like  other  incidents  related 
by  Herodotus. 

When  a  father  came  to  him  imploring  that  he  would  spare  one 
of  his  sons  from  going  to  the  war,  Xerxes  immediately  com¬ 
manded  the  young  man  to  be  slain  and  divided,  and  the 
wretched  father  was  obliged  to  march  between  the  mangled 
remains.  This  was  to  illustrate  forcibly  that  no  human  being 
had  any  rights  but  the  king,  and  that  it  was  presumptuous 
even  to  wish  to  retain  anything  from  his  service. 

The  armies  of  Xerxes  were  not  led  to  battle  by  leaders  in  front, 
but  driven  from  behind  with  whips  like  cattle.  When  the  king’s 
bridge  of  boats  across  the  Hellespont  was  destroyed  by  a  storm, 
he  fell  into  a  fury,  and  ordered  the  sea  to  be  chastised  with 
stripes,  and  fetters  to  be  thrown  into  it,  with  the  admonition,  “  O 
thou  salt  and  bitter  water,  it  is  thus  that  thy  master  chastises  thy 
insolence  !  ”  We  have  the  picture,  in  Herodotus,  of  the  king 
seated  at  ease  on  his  royal  throne,  on  an  eminence,  beholding 
the  various  ranks  of  his  army  as  they  were  driven  like  so  many 
bullocks  into  battle.  When  the  battle  went  against  him,  he 
would  leap  from  his  throne  in  furies  of  impotent  rage. 

It  is  at  the  court  of  this  monarch,  proud,  vain,  passionate,  and 
ostentatious,  that  the  story  opens,  with  a  sort  of  dazzle  of  East¬ 
ern  splendor.  “Now  it  came  to  pass,  in  the  days  of  Ahasuerus, 
which  reigned  from  India  even  unto  Ethiopia,  over  an  hundred 
and  twenty  and  seven  provinces,  that  in  those  days,  when  King 
Ahasuerus  sat  on  the  throne  of  his  kingdom,  which  was  in 
Shushan  the  palace,  in  the  third  year  of  his  reign,  he  made  a 
feast  unto  all  his  princes  and  his  servants ;  the  powers  of  Persia 
and  Media,  the  nobles  and  princes  of  the  provinces,  being  before 
him :  when  he  showed  them  the  riches  of  his  glorious  kingdom 
and  the  honor  of  his  excellent  majesty.” 

On  the  last  seven  days  of  the  feast  the  royal  palace  is  thrown 
open  to  the  populace  of  Shushan.  The  writer  goes  on  to  am¬ 
plify  and  give  particulars :  In  the  courts  of  the  king’s  garden 
were  couches  of  gold  and  silver,  on  a  pavement  of  colored 
marbles,  with  hangings  of  white,  green,  and  blue,  fastened  by 
cords  of  purple  and  fine  linen  to  silver  rings  in  marble  pillars. 

196 


QUEEN  ESTHER. 

There  was  wine  poured  forth  in  costly  goblets  of  very  quaint 
and  rare  device.  Vashti,  the  queen,  at  the  same  time  made  a 
feast  to  all  the  women  in  the  royal  house  which  belonged  to  the 
king.  In  the  year  1819  Sir  Robert  Ker  Porter  visited  and 
explored  the  ruins  of  this  city  of  Shushan.  His  travels  were 
printed  for  private  circulation,  and  are  rare  and  costly.  They 
contain  elegant  drawings  and  restorations  of  the  palace  at  Per- 
sepolis  which  would  well  illustrate  this  story,  and  give  an  idea 
of  the  architectural  splendor  of  the  scenery  of  the  drama  here 
presented. 

Of  Shushan  itself,  —  otherwise  Susa,  —  he  gives  only  one  or 
two  drawings  of  fragmentary  ruins.  The  “  satyrs  have  long 
danced  and  the  bitterns  cried”  in  these  halls  then  so  gay  and 
glorious,  though  little  did  the  king  then  dream  of  that. 

At  the  close  of  the  long  revel,  when  the  king  was  inflated  to 
the  very  ultimatum  of  ostentatious  vanity,  he  resolves,  as  a  last 
glorification  of  self,  to  exhibit  the  unveiled  beauty  of  his  Queen 
Vashti  to  all  the  princes  and  lords  of  his  empire. 

Now,  if  we  consider  the  abject  condition  of  all  men  in  that  day 
before  the  king,  aac  shall  stand  amazed  that  there  A\Tas  a  Avoman 
found  at  the  head  of  the  Persian  empire  that  dared  to  disobey  the 
command  even  of  a  drunken  monarch.  It  is  true  that  the  thing 
required  was,  according  to  Oriental  customs,  an  indecency  as 
great  as  if  a  modern  husband  should  propose  to  his  Avife  to 
exhibit  her  naked  person.  Vashti  Avas  reduced  to  the  place 
Avhere  a  Avoman  deliberately  chooses  death  before  dishonor.  The 
naive  account  of  the  counsel  of  the  king  and  princes  about  this 
first  stand  for  Avoman’s  rights  —  their  fear  that  the  example  might 
infect  other  AArives  with  a  like  spirit,  and  Aveaken  the  authority  of 
husbands  —  is  certainly  a  most  delightful  specimen  of  ancient 
simplicity.  It  shoAvs  us  that  the  male  sex,  Avith  all  their  force  of 
physical  mastery,  hold  everywhere,  even  in  the  undeATeloped 
states  of  civilization,  an  almost  even-handed  conflict  Avith  those 
subtler  and  more  ethereal  forces  Avhicli  are  ever  at  the  disposal 
of  women.  It  appears  that  the  chief  councilors  and  mighty 
men  of  Persia  could  scarcely  hold  their  oavu  Avith  their  Avives, 
and  felt  as  if  the  least  toleration  Avould  set  them  all  out  into  open 

197 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY 

rebellion.  So  Vashti  is  deposed,  vein,  con .,  by  the  concurrent 
voice  of  all  the  princes  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 

Then  conies  the  account  of  the  steps  taken  to  secure  another 
queen.  All  the  beautiful  virgins  through  all  the  hundred  and 
twenty-seven  provinces  are  caught,  caged,  and  sent  traveling  to¬ 
wards  Shushan,  and  delivered  over  to  the  keeping  of  the  chief 
eunuch,  like  so  many  birds  and  butterflies,  waiting  their  turn  to 
be  sent  in  to  the  king.  Among  them  all  a  Jewish  maiden,  of  an 
enslaved,  oppressed  race,  is  the  favored  one.  Before  all  the  beau¬ 
ties  of  the  provinces  Esther  is  preferred,  and  the  crown  royal  is 
set  upon  her  head.  What  charmed  about  Esther  was,  perhaps,  the 
reflection  of  a  soul  from  her  beautiful  face.  Every  one  of  the  best 
class  of  J ewish  women  felt  secretly  exalted  by  her  conception  of 
the  dignity  of  her  nation  as  chosen  by  the  one  true  God,  and 
destined  to  bring  into  the  world  the  great  prince  and  Messiah 
who  should  reign  over  the  earth.  These  religious  ideas  inspired 
in  them  a  lofty  and  heroic  cast  of  mind  that  even  captivity  could 
not  subdue.  At  all  events  there  was  something  about  Esther  that 
gave  her  a  power  to  charm  and  fix  the  passions  of  this  voluptuous 
and  ostentatious  monarch.  Esther  is  the  adopted  daughter  of 
her  kinsman  Mordecai,  and  the  narrative  says  that  “  Esther  did 
the  commandment  of  Mordecai,  like  as  when  she  was  brought 
up  with  him.”  At  his  command  she  forbears  to  declare  her 
nationality  and  lineage,  and  Mordecai  refrains  from  any  con¬ 
nection  with  her  that  would  compromise  her  as  related  to  an 
obscure  captive,  though  the  story  says  he  walked  every  day 
before  the  court  of  the  woman’s  house  to  know  how  Esther  did, 
and  what  should  become  of  her. 

In  these  walks  around  the  palace  he  overhears  a  conspiracy  of 
two  chamberlains  to  murder  the  king,  and  acquaints  Esther  of  the 
danger.  The  conspirators  are  executed,  and  the  record  passes 
into  the  Persian  annals  with  the  name  of  Mordecai  the  Jew,  but 
no  particular  honor  or  reward  is  accorded  to  him  at  that  time. 
Meanwhile,  a  foreign  adventurer  named  Hainan  rises  suddenly  to 
influence  and  power,  and  becomes  prime  minister  to  the  king. 
This  story  is  a  sort  of  door,  opening  into  the  interior  of  a 
despotic  court,  showing  the  strange  and  sudden  reverses  of  for- 

198 


QUEEN  ESTHER. 

tune  which  attended  that  phase  of  human  existence.  Hainan, 
inflated  with  self-consequence,  as  upstart  adventurers  generally 
are,  is  enraged  at  Mordecai  for  neglecting  to  prostrate  himself 
before  him  as  the  other  hangers-on  of  the  court  do.  Safe  in  his 
near  relationship  to  the  queen,  Mordecai  appears  to  have  felt 
himself  free  to  indulge  in  the  expensive  and  dangerous  luxury 
of  quiet  contempt  for  the  all-powerful  favorite  of  the  king. 

It  is  most  astounding  next  to  read  how  Hainan,  having  re¬ 
solved  to  take  vengeance  on  Mordecai  by  exterminating  his 
whole  nation,  thus  glibly  and  easily  wins  over  the  king  to 
his  scheme.  “There  is  a  nation,”  he  says,  “scattered  abroad 
throughout  all  the  provinces  of  the  king’s  kingdom,  and  their 
laws  are  diverse  from  all  people,  neither  keep  they  the  king’s 
laws,  therefore  it  is  not  for  the  king’s  profit  to  suffer  them.” 
“If  it  please  the  king  let  it  be  written  that  they  may  be  de¬ 
stroyed,  and  I  will  pay  ten  thousand  talents  of  silver  to  the 
hands  of  them  that  have  the  charge  of  the  business,  to  bring  it 
into  the  king’s  treasury.” 

It  is  fashionable  in  our  times  to  speak  of  the  contempt  and  dis¬ 
regard  shown  to  women  in  this  period  of  the  world  among  Orien¬ 
tal  races,  but  this  one  incident  shows  that  women  were  held  no 
cheaper  than  men.  Human  beings  were  cheap.  The  massacre  of 
hundreds  of  thousands  was  negotiated  in  an  easy,  off-hand  way, 
just  as  a  gardener  ordains  exterminating  sulphur  for  the  green 
bugs  on  his  plants.  The  king  answered  to  Hainan,  “  The  silver 
is  given  thee,  and  the  people  also,  to  do  as  seemeth  to  thee  good.” 

Then,  says  the  story,  “  the  king’s  scribes  were  called  on  the 
thirteenth  day  of  the  first  month,  and  there  was  written  according 
to  all  that  Hainan  had  commanded,  and  the  letters  were  sent  by 
post  into  all  the  provinces,  to  destroy  and  to  kill  and  cause  to 
perish  all  Jews,  both  old  and  young,  little  children  and  women, 
in  one  day,  of  the  twelfth  month,  which  is  the  month  Adar,  to 
take  the  spoil  of  them  for  a  prey.  The  posts  went  out,  being 
hastened  by  the  king’s  commandment,  and  the  king  and  Human 
sat  down  to  drink ,  but  the  city  of  Shushan  was  perplexed  ”  And  when 
Mordecai  heard  this  he  rent  his  clothes  and  put  on  sackcloth  with 
ashes,  and  went  into  the  midst  of  the  city,  and  came  even  before 

199 


WOMAN  IN  S ACHED  HISTORY. 

the  king’s  gate,  for  none  might  enter  into  the  king’s  gate  clothed 
in  sackcloth.  The  Oriental  monarch  was  supposed  to  dwell  in 
eternal  bliss  and  joyfulness  :  no  sight  or  sound  of  human  suffering 
or  weakness  or  pain  must  disturb  the  tranquility  of  his  court ;  he 
must  not  eA*en  suspect  the  existence  of  such  a  thing  as  sorrow. 

Far  in  the  luxurious  repose  of  the  women’s  apartments,  sunk 
upon  embroidered  cushions,  listening  to  the  warbling  of  birds  and 
the  plash  of  fountains,  Esther  the  queen  knew  nothing  of  the 
decree  that  had  gone  forth  against  her  people.  The  report  was 
brought  her  by  her  chamberlain  that  her  kinsman  was  in  sack¬ 
cloth,  and  she  sent  to  take  it  away  and  clothe  him  with  costly 
garments,  but  he  refused  the  attention  and  persisted  in  his  mourn¬ 
ing.  Then  the  queen  sent  her  chief  chamberlain  to  inquire  what 
was  the  cause  of  his  distress,  and  Mordecai  sent  a  copy  of  the  de¬ 
cree,  with  a  full  account  of  how  and  by  Avhom  it  had  been  ob¬ 
tained,  and  charging  her  to  go  and  make  supplication  to  the  king 
for  her  people.  Esther  returned  answer  :  “  All  the  king’s  servants 
do  knoAv  that  AArhosoever,  man  or  woman,  shall  come  in  to  the  king 
in  the  inner  court,  who  is  not  called,  there  is  one  law  to  put  them 
to  death,  except  those  to  whom  the  king  shall  hold  out  the  golden 
scepter  that  he  may  live,  but  I  have  not  been  called  to  appear 
before  the  king  for  thirty  days.” 

We  have  here  the  first  thoughts  of  a  Avoman  naturally  humble 
and  timid,  knoAving  herself  one  of  the  outlawed  race,  and  fearing, 
from  the  long  silence  of  the  king,  that  his  heart  may  have  been 
set  against  her  by  the  enemies  of  her  people.  Mordecai  sent  in 
reply  to  this  a  sterner  message  ;  “  Think  not  Avitli  thyself  that 
thou  shalt  escape  in  the  king’s  house  more  than  all  the  Jews.  For 
if  thou  altogether  boldest  thy  peace  at  this  time,  then  shall  there 
enlargement  and  deliverance  arise  to  the  J ews  from  another  quar¬ 
ter,  but  thou  and  thy  father’s  house  shall  be  cut  off ;  and  avIio 
knoweth  Avhether  thou  art  come  to  the  kingdom  for  such  a  time 
as  this  ?  ”  And  Esther  sends  this  reply  :  “  Go,  gather  together  all 
the  Jews  that  are  in  Sliushan,  and  fast  ye  for  me  ;  neither  eat  nor 
drink  for  three  days,  night  or  day  ;  and  I  and  my  maidens  will 
fast  likewise.  And  so  I  will  go  in  unto  the  king,  which  is  not 

according  to  laAV ;  and  if  I  perish,  I  perish.” 

200 


Q  UEEN  ESTHER. 

There  are  certain  apochryphal  additions  to  the  book  of  Esther, 
which  are  supposed  to  be  the  efforts  of  some  romancer  in  en¬ 
larging-  upon  a  historic  theme.  In  it  is  given  at  length  a  prayer 
of  Mordecai  in  this  distress,  and  a  detailed  account  of  the  visit 
of  Esther  to  the  king.  The  writer  says,  that,  though  she  carried 
a  smiling  face,  “  her  heart  was  in  anguish  for  fear,”  and  she  fell 
fainting  upon  the  shoulder  of  her  maid.  Our  own  account  is 
briefer,  and  relates  simply  how  the  king  saw  Esther  the  queen 
standing  in  the  court,  and  she  obtained  favor  in  his  eyes,  and  he 
held  out  the  golden  scepter,  and  said  to  her,  “  What  wilt  thou, 
Queen  Esther,  what  is  thy  request  ?  and  it  shall  be  given  thee, 
even  to  half  of  the  kingdom.”  Too  prudent  to  enter  at  once  into 
a  discussion  of  the  grand  subject,  Esther  seeks  an  occasion  to 
study  the  king  and  Hainan  together  more  nearly,  and  her  request 
is  only  that  the  king  and  Hainan  would  come  that  day  to  a  pri¬ 
vate  banquet  in  the  queen’s  apartments.  It  was  done,  and  the 
king  and  Haman  both  came. 

At  the  banquet  her  fascinations  again  draw  from  the  king  the 
permission  to  make  known  any  request  of  her  heart,  and  it  shall 
be  given,  even  to  half  of  his  kingdom.  Still  delaying  the  final 
issue,  Esther  asks  that  both  the  king  and  his  minister  may  come  to 
a  second  banquet  on  the  morrow.  Hainan  appears  to  have  been 
excessively  flattered  at  this  attention  from  the  queen,  of  whose 
nationality  he  was  profoundly  ignorant ;  but  as  he  passed  by  and 
saw  Mordecai  in  his  old  seat  in  the  king’s  gate,  “that  lie  stood 
not  up  neither  moved  for  him,”  he  was  full  of  indignation.  He 
goes  home  to  his  domestic  circle,  and  amplifies  the  account  of  his 
court  successes  and  glories,  and  that  even  the  queen  has  distin¬ 
guished  him  with  an  invitation  which  was  shared  by  no  one  but 
the  king.  Yet,  he  says,  in  the  end,  all  this  availetli  me  nothing, 
so  long  as  I  see  Mordecai  the  Jew  sitting  in  the  king’s  gate. 
His  wife  is  fruitful  in  resources.  “  Erect  a  gibbet,”  she  says, 
“  and  to-morrow  speak  to  the  king,  and  have  Mordecai  hanged, 
and  go  thou  merrily  to  the  banquet.”  And  the  thing  pleased 
Hainan,  and  he  caused  the  gallows  to  be  made. 

On  that  night  the  king  could  not  sleep,  and  calls  an  attendant, 
by  way  of  opiate,  to  read  the  prosy  and  verbose  records  of  his 

201 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

kingdom,  —  probably  having  often  found  this  a  sovereign  expedi¬ 
ent  for  inducing  drowsiness.  Then,  by  accident,  his  ear  catches 
the  account  of  the  conspiracy  which  had  been  averted  by  Mor- 
decai.  “  What  honor  hath  been  shown  this  man  ?”  he  inquires  ; 
and  his  servants  answered,  There  is  nothing  done  for  him.  The 
king’s  mind  runs  upon  the  subject,  and  early  in  the  morning,  per¬ 
ceiving  Hainan  standing  as  an  applicant  in  the  outer  court,  he 
calls  to  have  him  admitted.  Hainan  came,  with  his  mind  full  of 
the  gallows  and  Mordecai.  The  king’s  mind  was  full,  also,  of 
Mordecai,  and  he  had  the  advantage  of  the  right  of  speaking  first. 
In  the  enigmatic  style  sometimes  employed  by  Oriental  monarchs, 
he  inquires,  “  "YY  hat  shall  be  done  with  the  man  whom  the  king 
delighteth  to  honor  ?  ”  Hainan,  thinking  this  the  preface  to  some 
new  honor  to  himself,  proposes  a  scheme.  The  man  whom  the 
king  delights  to  honor  shall  be  clothed  in  the  king’s  royal  robes, 
wear  the  king’s  crown,  be  mounted  on  the  king’s  horse,  and  thus 
be  led  through  the  streets  by  one  of  the  king’s  chief  councilors, 
proclaiming,  “  This  is  the  man  whom  the  king  delighteth  to  honor.” 
u  Then  said  the  king :  Make  haste,  and  do  even  so  as  thou  hast 
said  unto  Mordecai  the  Jew  that  sitteth  in  the  king’s  gate.  Let 
nothing  fail  of  all  that  thou  hast  spoken.”  And  Haman,  without 
daring  to  remonstrate,  goes  forth  and  fulfills  the  king’s  command, 
with  what  grace  and  willingness  may  be  imagined. 

It  is  evident  from  the  narrative  that  the  king  had  not  even 
taken  the  trouble  to  inquire  the  name  of  the  people  he  had  given 
up  to  extermination  any  more  than  he  had  troubled  himself  to  re¬ 
ward  the  man  who  had  saved  his  life.  In  both  cases  he  goes  on 
blindly,  and  is  indebted  to  mere  chance  for  his  discoveries.  We 
see  in  all  this  the  same  passionate,  childish  nature  that  is  recorded 
of  Xerxes  by  Herodotus  when  he  scourged  the  sea  for  destroying 
his  bridge  of  boats.  When  Haman  comes  back  to  his  house  after 
his  humiliating  public  exposure,  his  Avife  comforts  him  after  a 
fashion  that  has  not  passed  out  of  use  with  her.  “  If  that  Mor¬ 
decai,”  she  says,  “  is  of  the  seed  of  the  Jews  before  whom  thou 
hast  begun  to  fall,  thou  shalt  not  prevail  against  him,  but  shall 
surely  fall  before  him.” 

And  uoav  Haman  and  the  king  and  Esther  are  once  more  in  a 

202 


QUEEN  ESTHER. 

secluded  apartment,  banqueting-  together.  Again  the  king  says 
to  her,  u  What  is  thy  request,  Esther  ?  ”  The  hour  of  full  dis¬ 
covery  is  now  come.  Esther  answers :  “  If  I  have  found  favor 
in  thy  sight,  O  king,  and  if  it  please  the  king,  let  my  life  be  given 
me  at  my  petition,  and  my  people  at  my  request.  For  we  are 
sold,  I  and  my  people,  to  be  slain  and  to  perish.  If  we  had  only 
been  sold  to  slavery,  I  had  held  my  tongue.”  Then  the  king- 
breaks  forth,  “  Who  is  he,  and  where  is  he  that  durst  presume  in 
his  heart  to  do  so  ?  ”  And  Esther  answered,  “  The  adversary  and 
enemy  is  this  ivickecl  Hainan  !  ”  Then  Hainan  was  afraid  before 
the  king  and  queen,  and  he  had  the  best  reason  to  be  so.  The 
king,  like  an  angry  lion,  rose  up  in  a  fury  and  rushed  out  into 
the  gardens.  Probably  at  this  moment  he  perceived  the  net  into  , 
which  he  had  been  drawn  by  his  favorite.  He  has  sent  orders  for 
the  destruction  of  this  people,  to  whom  his  wife  belongs,  and  for 
whom  she  intercedes.  Of  course  he  never  thinks  of  blaming-  him- 
self.  The  use  of  prime  ministers  was  as  well  understood  in  those 
days  as  now,  and  Hainan  must  take  the  consequences  as  soon  as 
the  king  can  get  voice  to  speak  it.  Hainan,  white  with  abject 
terror,  falls  fainting  at  the  feet  of  Esther  upon  the  couch  where 
she  rests,  and  as  the  king  comes  raging  back  from  the  gardens  he 
sees  him  there.  “  What !  will  he  force  our  queen  also  in  our  very 
presence  ?  ”  lie  says.  And  as  the  word  went  out  of  the  king’s 
mouth,  they  covered  Hainan’s  face.  All  is  over  with  him,  and  an 
alert  attendant  says :  “  Behold  the  gallows,  fifty  cubits  high,  that 
lie  made  to  hang  Mordecai,  the  saviour  of  the  king’s  life.”  Then 
said  the  king,  “  Hang  him  thereon.” 

Thus  dramatically  comes  the  story  to  a  crisis.  Mordecai  be¬ 
comes  prime  minister.  The  message  of  the  king  goes  everywhere, 
empowering  the  Jews  to  stand  for  their  life,  and  all  the  governors 
of  provinces  to  protect  them.  And  so  it  ends  in  leaving  the  na¬ 
tion  powerful  in  all  lands,  under  the  protection  of  a  queen  and 
prime  minister  of  their  own  nation. 

The  book  of  Esther  was  forthwith  written  and  sent  to  the  Jews 
in  all  countries  of  the  earth,  as  a  means  of  establishing  a  yearly 
commemorative  festival  called  Purim,  from  the  word  “  Pur,” 
or  “  The  lot."  The  festival  was  appointed,  we  are  told,  by  the 

203 


WOMAN  IJST  SACRED  HISTORY. 

* 

joint  authority  of  Mordecai  the  Jew  and  Esther  the  queen.  And 
to  this  day  we  Gentiles  in  New  York  or  Boston,  at  the  time  of 
Purini,  may  go  into  the  synagogue  and  hear  this  hook  of  Esther 
chanted  in  the  Hebrew,  and  hear  the  hearty  curses  which  are 
heaped,  with  thumps  of  hammers  and  of  fists,  upon  the  heads  of 
Hainan  and  his  sons  whenever  their  names  occur  in  the  story,  — 
a  strange  fragment  of  ancient  tradition  floated  down  to  our  mod¬ 
ern  times.  The  palace  of  Shushan,  with  its  hangings  of  green 
and  blue  and  purple,  its  silver  couches,  its  stir  and  hum  of  busy 
life,  is  now  a  moldering  ruin ;  but  the  fair  woman  that  once 
trod  its  halls  is  remembered  and  honored  in  a  nation’s  heart.  It 
is  a  curious  fact  that  the  romantic  history  of  Esther  has  twice  had 
,  its  parallel  since  the  Christian  era,  as  the  following  incident,  from 
Selmdt’s  “  Memorabilia  of  the  Jews,”  *  witnesses.  In  this  rare 
and  curious  work  —  4th  book,  13th  chapter  —  he  says:  “  Casi- 
mir  the  Great,  of  Poland,  in  1431,  fell  in  love  with  a  beautiful 
Jewess  named  Esther,  whom  he  married  and  raised  to  the  throne 
of  Poland.  He  had  by  her  two  sons  and  several  daughters.  His 
love  for  her  was  so  great  that  he  allowed  the  daughters  to  be 
brought  up  in  their  mother’s  religion.”  Also  it  is  related  that 
Alphonso  VIII.,  king  of  Spain,  took  to  himself  a  beautiful 
Jewess  as  a  wife.  On  account  of  her  he  gave  such  privileges 
to  the  Jews  that  she  became  an  object  of  jealousy  to  the  nobles, 
and  was  assassinated 

The  book  of  Esther  fills  an  important  place  in  the  sacred 
canon,  as  showing  the  Divine  care  and  protection  extended  over 
the  sacred  race  in  the  period  of  their  deepest  depression.  The 
beauty  and  grace  of  a  woman  were  the  means  of  preserving  the 
seed  from  which  the  great  Son  of  Man  and  desire  of  all  nations 
should  come.  Esther  held  in  her  fair  hand  the  golden  chain  at 
the  end  of  which  we  see  the  Mother  of  Jesus.  The  “  Prayer  of 
Esther  ”  is  a  composition  ascribed  to  her,  and  still  in  honored  use 
among  the  solemn  services  of  the  synagogue. 

*  Jiidische  Merle  wiirdigkei  ten.  Frankfort  and  Leipsic,  1714. 

204 


ESTHER. 

UEEN  ESTHER  weighed  tlie  message  well  ; 
Her  dark  eyes  seemed  dark  thoughts  to  tell, 
As,  fixed  upon  the  kneeling  slave, 

Mute  answer  to  his  words  they  gave, 

The  while  her  pale  lips,  murmuring  dim, 

Spake  to  herself,  and  not  to  him. 

“  It  is  indeed  a  dreadful  task 
My  cousin  Mordecai  doth  ask. 

’T  was  he  who  cheered  my  orphan  grief 
With  visions  of  some  great  relief, 

And,  reading  in  the  Holy  Book, 

Prophetic  promise  found  and  took, 

Crowning  a  maiden  all  unknown 
With  glory  from  the  Persian  throne. 

How  oft  he  whispered,  well  I  ween, 

'  My  child,  thou  shalt  be  Persia’s  queen  !  ’ 

And  when  through  all  the  realm  made  haste 
The  news,  ‘  Proud  Vashti  is  disgraced !  ’ 

How  thrilled  his  voice  our  quiet  home, 

‘Hadassah,  rise;  thine  hour  is  come!’ 

Amazed,  the  simple  Hebrew  maid 
His  summons  heard,  his  word  obeyed, 

The  appointed  year  in  Shushan  passed, 

And  with  the  king  found  grace  at  last. 

The  virgin  of  a  lineage  scorned 
With  royal  purple  was  adorned, 

And  mistress  of  all  lands  confessed, 

From  India  to  the  Ethiop  west. 

“  Ah,  cousin,  ’t  were  less  hard  before, 

The  dream  of  splendor  to  give  o’er, 

205 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 

Forego  the  untouched  crown,  tlum  now 
To  lose  it  from  a  sovereign  brow,  — 

Resign  the  power  already  known, 

Forsake  the  palace  and  the  throne, 
Transgress  alike  as  queen  and  wife, 

And  forfeit  rashly  love  with  life ! 

The  bird  that  erst  was  urged  to  flight, 
Once  gliding  up  the  airy  height, 

No  longer  heeds  the  keeper’s  call 
That  bids  it  tamely  pause  or  fall ; 

Would  thou  hadst  never  let  me  fly, 

Or  ne’er  recalled  me,  Mordecai ! 

“The  king  loved  Vashti  once,  they  tell, 
(Albeit,  he  swears  me,  not  so  well !) 

Yet  all  his  love  to  anger  burned 
At  one  proud  answer  she  returned. 

Kings  must  be  loved  with  reverence ; 

Their  royalty  wears  this  defense ; 

And  bidden  queens  must  swiftly  come, 

And  queens  unbidden  bide  at  home. 

These  thirty  days  I  wait  the  word 
That  gives  me  audience  with  my  lord ; 

Nor  I,  nor  any,  dare  intrude 
Unasked  upon  his  solitude,  — 

Rash  crime,  that  on  the  offender  draws 
Death,  by  the  changeless  Median  laws !  ” 

“0  heart,  that  beats  so  loud  within, 

O  traitor  heart,  that  whispers  sin  ! 

Hast  thou  forgot  thy  Hebrew  blood, 

Thy  race  of  kings  before  the  Flood, 

Thy  people,  patient  to  the  end, 

Thy  God,  almighty  to  defend  ?  ” 

“Ah,  Mordecai,  thou  sayest  well, 

Their  fate  is  mine.  And  who  can  tell, 

But  I  am  come  to  power  and  state 
To  conquer  Israel’s  evil  fate  ? 

Alas !  I  tremble  while  I  think 
How  deep  the  abyss,  how  near  the  brink. 
2or> 


ESTHER. 

Jehovah !  hear  thine  handmaid’s  prayer ; 
Make  wise  to  plan,  make  bold  to  dare, 

And  in  her  life  or  death  make  known 
Thy  people’s  glory  and  thine  own ! 

“Go,  Hatach,  bear  to  Mordecai 
Hadassah’s  —  nay,  the  queen’s  —  reply : 

Let  all  my  Hebrew  brethren  fast 
Until  three  days  and  nights  are  past ; 

For  on  the  third  day  I  will  go 
And  face  the  King.  It  may  be  so 
(Since  lie  has  said  he  loves  me  much) 

That  he  will  deign  the  pardoning  touch, — 
Yea,  with  the  golden  scepter  give 
Once  more  the  right  to  love  and  live. 

But  if — -  Enough  ;  tell  Mordecai 
I  go,  and  if  I  die,  I  die ! 

He  knows  me ;  tell  him  thou  hast  heard 
The  queen’s  —  his  child  Hadassah’s  —  word, 
His  Hebrew  sister  on  the  throne  : 

Now  haste,  —  and  God  defend  his  own!” 


THE  LAST  RESOLVE. 


Esther  iv.  16. 


«|OME,  trembling  sinner,  in  whose  breast 
A  thousand  thoughts  revolve, — 

Come,  with  your  guilt  and  fear  oppressed, 


And  make  this  last  resolve 


“  I  ’ll  go  to  Jesus  though  my  sin 
Hath  like  a  mountain  rose ; 

I  know  his  courts,  I  ’ll  enter  in 
Whatever  may  oppose. 


“  Prostrate  I  ’ll  lie  before  his  throne 
And  there  my  guilt  confess  ; 

I  ’ll  tell  him  I ’m  a  wretch  undone 
Without  his  Sovereign  grace. 


“  I  ’ll  to  the  gracious  King  approach 
Whose  scepter  pardon  gives  ; 
Perhaps  he  may  command  my  touch, 
And  then  the  suppliant  lives. 


“  Perhaps  he  will  admit  my  plea, 
Perhaps  will  hear  my  prayer ; 
But  if  I  perish,  I  will  pray, 

And  perish  only  there. 

208 


THE  LAST  RESOLVE. 

“  I  can  but  perish  if  I  go,  — 

I  am  resolved  to  try ; 

For  if  I  stay  away,  I  know 
I  must  forever  die.” 

Rev.  Edmund  Jones. 
209 


I  f  i  J  w 

^#  n 

Mmfc  ft  JW?  [ 

Kf  y7  s >  x/ 

CTrefcelw  a  Jr 

tM^W 

JUDITH. 


Horace  Vernet,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


JUDITH  THE  DELIVERER. 


0  female  type  of  character  has  given  more  brilliant 
inspiration  to  the  artist  or  been  made  more  glowingly 

.  alive  on  canvas  than  Judith.  Her  story,  however,  is 

set  down  by  competent  scholars  as  a  work  of  fiction. 
The  incidents  recorded  in  it  have  so  many  anachronisms  as  to 
time  and  place,  the  historical  characters  introduced  are  in  combi¬ 
nations  and  relations  so  interfering  with  authentic  history,  that 
such  authorities  as  Professor  Winer,*  of  Leipsic,  and  others,  do 
not  hesitate  to  assign  it  to  the  realm  of  romance.  This  Apocry¬ 
phal  book  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the  few  sparse  blossoms  of  aesthetic 
literature  among  the  Jewish  nation.  It  is  a  story  ages  before  the 
time  of  the  tales  of  the  Decameron ,  but  as  purely  a  romance. 
Considered  in  this  light,  it  is  nobly  done  and  of  remarkable 
beauty.  The  character  of  Judith  is  a  striking  and  picturesque 
creation,  of  which  any  modern  artist  might  be  proud.  It  illus¬ 
trates  quite  as  powerfully  as  a  true  story  the  lofty  and  heroic 
type  of  womanhood  which  was  the  result  of  the  Mosaic  institu¬ 
tions,  and  the  reverence  in  which  such  women  were  held  by  the 
highest  authorities  of  the  nation. 


The  author  begins  with  the  account  of  a  destructive  and 
terrible  war  which  is  being  waged  on  the  Jewish  nation  for 
refusing,  to  serve  in  the  armies  of  one  Nabuehodonosor,  king  of 
Assyria,  in  an  attack  on  the  king  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 
All  the  names  of  this  so-called  war,  and  all  the  events  as  nar¬ 


rated,  are  out  of  joint  with  received  history,  and  clearly  as  much 
creations  of  the  writer’s  fancy  as  the  Arabian  Nights.  It  is  stated 
that  the  Jews  had  just  returned  from  the  Babylonian  captivity, 
and  brought  back  their  sacred  vessels,  and  restored  their  temple 


*  Winer’s  Bible  Dictionary,  art.  Judith. 
211 


WOMAN  m  SACKED  HISTORY. 


worship  after  the  long’  defilement  of  heathen  servitude.  But  it  is 
a  matter  of  undisputed  history  that  Nabuchodonosor  was  the  king 
who  carried  the  nation  into  captivity,  and  no  other  monarch  of 
the  name  is  known  to  history  who  performed  deeds  at  all  like 
those  here  narrated. 

The  story  goes  on  to  state  how,  to  punish  the  Jews  for  not 
becoming  his  soldiers  in  the  war,  this  king  sent  his  chief  com¬ 
mander,  Holofernes,  to  carry  destruction  over  their  country. 
The  mighty  army  of  this  general,  and  its  ravages  over  the 
surrounding  country,  are  set  forth  with  an  Oriental  luxury  of 
amplification.  They  come  at  last  and  straitly  besiege  the  city 
of  Bethulia.  Whether  this  is  a  fictitious  name  for  a  real  city,  or 
whether  it  is  a  supposititious  city,  the  creation  of  the  author’s 
imagination,  critics  are  not  fully  decided ;  the  story  is  just  as 
pretty  on  one  hypothesis  as  the  other.  The  water  being  cut  off, 
the  people,  suffering  and  dying  of  thirst,  beset  the  cliief-priests 
and  elders  to  surrender  the  city  to  save  their  lives.  Ozias,  the 
chief  ruler,  temporizes,  recommends  five  days  of  prayer ;  if 
before  that  time  the  God  of  Israel  does  not  interpose,  he  prom¬ 
ises  to  surrender. 

And  now  the  romance  puts  its  heroine  on  the  stage.  After 
tracing  her  family  and  descent,  it  introduces  her  in  these  quaint 
words:  “Now  Judith  was  a  widow  in  her  house  three  years 
and  four  months.  And  she  made  her  tent  on  the  top  of  the 
house,  put  on  sackcloth,  and  wore  her  widow’s  apparel ;  and 
she  fasted  all  the  days  of  her  widowhood,  save  the  eves  of 
the  Sabbaths,  the  Sabbaths,  and  the  new  moons  and  solemn 
feast-days  of  Israel.  She  was  also  of  goodly  countenance,  and 
beautiful  to  behold,  and  her  husband,  Manasses,  had  left  her  gold 
and  silver,  and  man-servants  and  maid-servants,  and  cattle,  and 
lands ;  and  she  remained  upon  them.  And  there  was  none  gave 
her  an  ill  word,  for  she  feared  God  greatly.” 

It  is  a  striking  exemplification  of  the  elevated  position  which 
women  held  in  the  Jewish  nation  that  a  romance  writer  should 
introduce  the  incident  that  follows.  Judith,  hearing  of  the  prom¬ 
ise  of  the  chief-ruler  to  surrender  the  city,  sends  her  maid  to  call 
the  governor  and  the  chief  men  of  the  city,  and  they  came  unto 

212 


JUDITH  THE  DELIVERER. 

her.  And  she  said:  “  Hear  now,  0  ye  governors  of  the  inhab¬ 
itants  of  Bethulia,  for  the  words  that  you  have  spoken  are  not 
right  touching  this  oath,  that  you  have  promised  to  deliver  the 
city  to  our  enemies,  unless  within  these  days  the  Lord  turn  and 
help  you.  And  now,  who  are  ye  that  have  tempted  God  this 
day,  to  stand  in  the  stead  of  God  to  the  children  of  men  ?  ” 

She  goes  on  to  tell  them  that  they  have  no  right  to  say  that 
unless  God  interfere  for  them  before  a  certain  time  they  will  give 
up  a  sacred  charge  which  has  been  entrusted  to  them  to  main¬ 
tain  ;  but  it  is  rather  their  duty  to  stand  at  their  posts  and  defend 
their  city,  without  making  conditions  with  him  as  to  when  or 
how  he  should  help  them.  She  says  to  them:  “And  now,  try 
the  Lord  Almighty,  and  ye  shall  never  know  anything.  For  ye 
cannot  find  the  depth  of  the  heart  of  a  man,  neither  can  ye  per¬ 
ceive  what  he  thinketh ;  how,  then,  can  ye  search  out  God,  that 
hath  made  all  things,  and  comprehend  his  purposes?  Nay,  my 
brethren,  provoke  not  the  Lord  our  God  to  anger ;  for  it  he  will 
not  help  within  five  days,  he  hath  power  to  help  us  when  he  will, 
even  every  day.  Do  not  bind  the  counsel  of  the  Lord,  for  God 
is  not  a  man  that  he  may  be  threatened.  Therefore,  let  us  wait 
for  salvation  from  him,  and  call  upon  him,  and  he  will  hear,  if  it 
please  him.” 

She  then  shows  them  the  disgrace  and  dishonor  which  will 
come  upon  them  if  they  betray  their  trust,  and  they  allow  the 
sacred  inheritance  to  be  defiled  and  destroyed,  and  ends  with  a 
heroic  exhortation :  “  Now,  therefore,  0  brethren,  let  us  show  an 
example  to  our  brethren,  because  their  hearts  depend  on  us, 
and  the  sanctuary  and  the  house  and  the  altar  rest  on  us.” 

The  governor  and  elders  receive  this  message  with  respectful 
deference,  apologize  for  yielding  to  the  urgency  of  the  people, 
who  were  mad  with  the  sufferings  of  thirst,  and  compelled  them 
to  make  this  promise,  and  adds  :  “  Therefore,  pray  thou  for  us, 
for  thou  art  a  goodly  woman,  and  the  Lord  will  send  us  rain,  and 
till  our  cisterns  that  we  thirst  no  more.”  At  this  moment  Judith 
receives  a  sudden  flash  of  heroic  inspiration,  and  announces  to 
them,  that,  if  they  will  send  her  forth  without  the  city  that  night, 
the  Lord  will  visit  Israel  by  her  hand.  She  adds  that  they  must 

213 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  MIS  TORY. 


not  inquire  further  of  lier  purpose,  until  the  design  she  has  in 
view  be  finished.  The  magistrates,  confiding  implicitly  in  her, 
agree  to  forward  her  plan  blindly. 

The  story  now  introduces  us  to  the  private  oratory,  where 
J udith  pours  out  her  heart  before  God.  So  says  the  narrative  : 
“  Then  J  udith  fell  on  her  face,  and  put  ashes  on  her  head,  and 
uncovered  the  sackcloth  wherewith  she  was  clothed,  and  about 
the  time  that  the  incense  of  that  evening  was  offered  in  Jeru¬ 
salem  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  Judith  cried  with  a  loud  voice 
to  the  Lord.” 

The  prayer  of  Judith  is  eloquent  in  its  fervent  simplicity, 
and  breathes  that  intense  confidence  in  God  as  the  refuge 
of  the  helpless,  which  is  characteristic  of  Jewish  literature. 
“  Behold,”  she  says,  “  the  Assyrians  are  multiplied  in  their 
power,  and  are  exalted  with  horse  and  man ;  they  glory  in  the 
strength  of  their  footmen ;  they  trust  in  shield  and  spear  and 
bow,  and  know  not  that  thou  art  the  Lord  that  breakest  battles. 
The  Lord  is  thy  name.  Throw  down  their  strength  in  thy 
power,  and  bring  down  their  force  in  thy  wrath,  for  they  have 
purposed  to  defile  thy  sanctuary,  and  to  pollute  the  tabernacle 
where  thy  glorious  name  resteth,  and  to  cast  down  with  sword 
the  home  of  thy  altar.  Behold  their  pride.  Send  thy  wrath 
upon  their  heads,  and  give  unto  me,  which  am  a  widow,  the 
power  that  I  have  conceived.  For  thy  power  standetli  not  in 
multitude,  nor  thy  might  in  strong  men ;  for  thou  art  the  God  of 
the  afflicted,  thou  art  an  helper  of  the  oppressed,  an  upholder 
of  the  weak,  a  protector  of  the  forlorn,  a  saviour  of  them  that 
are  without  hope.  I  pray  thee,  I  pray  thee,  O  God  of  my 
father,  King  of  every  creature !  hear  my  prayer,  and  make 
my  speech  and  deceit  to  be  their  wound  and  stripe,  who  have 
purposed  cruel  things  against  thy  covenant,  and  thy  hallowed 
house,  and  against  the  house  of  the  possession  of  thy  children.” 

When  she  had  thus  prayed,  the  story  goes  on  to  say,  she  called 
her  maid,  and,  laying  aside  the  garments  of  her  widowhood, 
dressed  herself  in  the  utmost  splendor,  adorning  herself  with 
jewels,  and  practicing  every  art  of  the  toilet  to  set  off  her 
beauty.  Thus  attired,  she  with  her  maid  went  forth  from  the 

214 


JUDITII  THE  DELIVERER. 

city  towards  the  Assyrian  army,  meaning  to  he  taken  prisoner. 
As  she  designed,  she  was  met  by  the  outguards  of  the  army,  and 
carried  at  once  to  the  tent  of  their  general,  professing  that  she 
had  come  to  show  him  a  way  whereby  he  could  go  in  and  win 
all  the  hill  country  without  loss  of  a  man.  The  sensation  pro¬ 
duced  by  her  entrance  into  the  camp  is  well  given :  “  Then  there 
was  a  concourse  through  all  the  camp,  for  her  coming  was  noised 
among  the  tents,  and  they  came  about  her  as  she  stood  waiting 
without  the  tent  of  Holofernes ;  and  they  wondered  at  her 
beauty,  and  admired  the  children  of  Israel  because  of  her,  and 
every  one  said  to  his  neighbors,  Who  would  despise  this  people 
that  have  among  them  such  women  ?  ” 

The  story  next  gives  the  scene  where  Holofernes,  dazzled  by 
her  beauty  and  enchanted  by  her  manners,  becomes  entirely 
subject  to  her  will,  receives  and  entertains  her  as  a  sovereign 
princess.  She  easily  persuades  him  to  believe  the  story  she 
tells  him.  This  people,  she  says,  are  under  the  protection  of 
their  God  so  long  as  they  do  not  violate  the  rules  of  their  re¬ 
ligion,  but,  under  the  pressure  of  famine,  they  are  about  to 
eat  of  forbidden  articles  and  to  consume  the  sacred  offerings 
due  to  the  temple.  Then  their  God  will  turn  against  them  and 
deliver  them  into  his  hands.  She  will  remain  with  him,  and  go 
forth  from  time  to  time  ;  and  when  the  sacrilege  is  accomplished, 
she  will  let  him  know  that  the  hour  to  fall  upon  them  is  come. 

So  Judith  is  installed  in  state  and  all  honor  near  the  court  of 
the  commander,  and  enjoys  to  the  full  the  right  to  exercise  the 
rites  of  her  national  religion,  —  nay,  the  infatuated  Holofernes 
goes  so  far  as  to  promise  her  that,  in  the  event  of  her  succeeding 
in  her  promises,  he  will  himself  adopt  the  God  of  Israel  for  his 
God.  After  a  day  or  two  spent  in  this  way,  in  which  she  goes 
forth  every  night  for  prayer  and  ablutions  at  the  fountain,  there 
comes  the  attempt  to  draw  her  into  the  harem  of  the  general. 
Holofernes,  in  conference  with  Bagoas,  the  chief  of  his  eunuchs, 
seems  to  think  that  the  beautiful  Judaean  woman  would  laugh 
him  to  scorn  if  he  suffered  such  an  opportunity  to  pass  unim¬ 
proved.  Accordingly  a  private  banquet  is  arranged,  and  the 
chief  of  the  eunuchs  carries  the  invitation  in  true  Oriental  style, 


WOMAN  IJST  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 


as  follows :  “  Let  not  this  fair  damsel  fear  to  come  unto  my  lord, 
and  to  be  honored  in  his  presence,  and  to  drink  wine  and  be 
merry,  and  to  be  made  this  day  as  one  of  the  Assyrians  that 
serve  in  the  house  of  Nabucliodonosor.”  Judith  graciously 
accepts  the  invitation,  decks  herself  with  all  her  jewelry,  and 
comes  to  the  banquet  and  ravishes  the  heart  of  the  commandant 
with  her  smiles.  Excited  and  flattered,  he  drinks,  it  is  said, 
more  wine  than  ever  he  drunk  before ;  so  that,  at  the  close  of 
the  feast,  when  the  servants  departed  and  Judith  was  left  alone 
in  the  tent  with  him,  he  was  lying  dead  drunk  with  wine  on  the 
cushions  of  his  divan. 

The  rest  is  told  in  the  story :  “  Then  all  went  out  and  there 
was  none  left  in  the  bedchamber,  neither  little  nor  great.  Then 
J udith,  standing  by  the  bed,  said  in  her  heart,  0  Lord  God  of  all 
power,  look,  at  this  present,  on  the  work  of  my  hands  for  the 
exaltation  of  Jerusalem.  For  now  is  the  time  to  help  thy  inheri¬ 
tance  and  to  execute  my  enterprise  to  the  destruction  of  the  ene¬ 
mies  that  are  risen  up  against  us.  Then  came  she  to  the  pillow 
of  the  couch,  and  took  down  the  fauchion  from  thence,  and  ap- 
proached  his  bed,  and  took  hold  of  the  hair  of  his  head,  and  said, 
Strengthen  me,  0  Lord  God  of  Israel,  this  day,  and  she  smote 
twice  upon  his  neck  with  all  her  might,  and  she  took  away  his 
head  from  him  and  went  forth.” 

She  returns  to  the  city  in  the  dim  gray  of  the  morning,  bear¬ 
ing  her  trophy  and  the  canopy  and  hangings  of  the  bed  whereon 
the  enemy  lay :  “  Then  called  Judith  afar  off  to  the  watchmen, 
Open  now  the  gates,  for  God,  even  our  God,  is  with  us  to  show 
his  power  yet  in  Israel  and  his  strength  against  the  enemy.”  A 
hasty  midnight  summons  brings  together  the  elders  of  the  city. 
A  fire  is  kindled,  and  they  gather  round  her,  as,  radiant  with  tri¬ 
umphant  excitement,  she  breaks  forth  in  triumph :  “  Praise, 
praise,  praise  God,  praise  God,  I  say,  for  he  has  not  taken  away 
his  mercy  from  the  house  of  Israel,  but  hath  destroyed  the 
enemy  by  my  hand  this  night.”  And  she  took  the  head  out  of 
the  bag  and  showed  it  to  them,  and  said  :  “  Behold  the  head  of 
Holofemes,  the  chief  captain  of  the  army  of  Assur,  and  behold 
the  canopy  where  he  did  lie  in  his  drunkenness,  and  the  Lord 

216 


JUDITH  THE  DELIVERER. 


hath  smitten  him  by  the  hand  of  a  woman.  As  the  Lord  liveth, 
who  hath  kept  me  in  my  way  that  I  went,  my  countenance  hath 
deceived  him  to  his  destruction,  yet  he  hath  not  committed  sin 
with  me  to  defile  and  shame  me.” 

Then  Ozias  said,  u  0  daughter,  blessed  art  thou  among  all 
the  women  of  the  earth,  and  blessed  be  the  Lord  God  which 
created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  which  hath  directed  thee  to 
the  cutting  off  of  the  head  of  our  chief  enemy.  For  this  thy 
confidence  shall  not  depart  from  the  hearts  of  men  which  re¬ 
member  the  power  of  God  forever.  And  God  turn  these  things 
for  a  perpetual  praise,  because  thou  hast  not  spared  thy  life  for 
the  affliction  of  our  nation,  but  hast  avenged  our  ruin,  walking 
in  a  straight  way  before  our  God.  And  all  the  people  said, 
Amen*  so  be  it.” 

The  sequel  of  the  story  is,  that  the  inspired  prophetess  directs 
her  citizens  to  rush  down  upon  the  army  in  the  first  confusion  of 
the  loss  of  its  general ;  and,  this  advice  being  followed,  a  gen¬ 
eral  panic  and  rout  of  the  hostile  army  follows,  and  the  whole 
camp  is  taken  and  spoiled. 

The  story  ends  with  a  solemn  procession  of  thanksgiving  and 
worship,  the  men  wreathed  with  flowers  around  their  armor,  and 
headed  by  Judith  crowned  with  a  garland  of  olive  leaves,  and 
leading  forth  a  solemn  rhythmic  dance  while  she  sings  a  hymn 
of  victory.  This  song  of  Judith,  evidently  modeled  on  the  vic¬ 
torious  anthem  of  Deborah  under  the  same  circumstances,  is  less 
vigorous  and  fiery,  but  more  polished  and  finished.  Had  it  stood 
alone,  it  had  been  thought  an  unrivalled  composition  of  its  kind. 
The  animus  of  it  is,  in  some  respects,  the  same  with  that  of  the 
song  of  Hannah,  —  it  exults  in  the  might  of  God  as  the  protector 
of  the  weak  and  helpless.  There  is  an  intensely  feminine  exulta¬ 
tion  in  the  consciousness  that  she,  though  weak  as  a  woman,  has 
been  made  the  means  of  overcoming  this  strength :  — 


“  Assur  came  from  the  mountains  of  the  north, 
He  came  with  ten  thousands  of  armies. 

The  multitudes  thereof  stopped  the  torrents. 
Their  horsemen  covered  the  hills. 

He  bragged  that  he  would  bum  up  my  border, 
217 


WOMAN  IN  SAG  BED  HIS  TOBY. 


That  he  would  kill  my  young  men  with  the  sword, 

That  he  would  dash  the  sucking  children  against  the  ground, 

And  make  the  children  a  prey  and  the  virgins  a  spoil ; 

But  the  Almighty  Lord  hath  disappointed;  him  by  the  hand  of  a  woman  ! 

The  mighty  one  did  not  fall  by  young  men, 

Neither  did  the  sons  of  Titans  set  upon  him, 

Nor  did  high  giants  set  upon  him  ; 

But  Judith,  the  daughter  of  Merari,  weakened  him  with  her  beauty. 

For  the  exaltation  of  the  oppressed  in  Israel 
She  put  off  her  garments  of  widowhood, 

She  anointed  herself  with  ointment, 

She  bound  her  hair  with  a  fillet, 

She  took  a  linen  garment  to  deceive  him  ; 

Her  sandals  ravished  his  eyes, 

Her  beauty  took  his  mind  prisoner, 

So  the  fauchion  passed  through  his  neck. 

I  will  sing  unto  my  God  a  new  song  : 

0  Lord,  thou  art  great  and  glorious, 

Wonderful  in  strength  and  invincible. 

Let  all  creatures  praise  thee, 

For  thou  speakest  and  they  were  made, 

Thou  sentest  thy  spirit  and  created  them. 

There  is  none  can  resist  thy  voice  ; 

The  mountains  shall  be  moved  from  their  foundations, 

The  rocks  shall  melt  like  wax  at  thy  presence, 

Yet  art  thou  merciful  to  them  that  fear  thee, 

For  all  sacrifice  is  too  little  for  a  sweet  savor  unto  thee, 

All  the  fat  is  not  enough  for  burnt-offerings  ; 

But  he  that  feareth  the  Lord  is  great  at  all  times.” 

How  magnificent  is  the  conception  of  the  woman  here  given ! 
Lowly,  devout,  given  up  to  loving  memories  of  family  life,  yet 
capable  in  the  hour  of  danger  of  rising  to  the  highest  inspirations 
of  power.  Poetess,  prophetess,  inspirer,  leader,  by  the  strength 
of  that  power  by  which  the  helpless  hold  the  hand  of  Almighty 
God  and  triumph  in  his  strength,  she  becomes  the  deliverer  of 
her  people. 


218 


JUDITH, 

WITH  THE  HEAD  OF  HOLOFERNES. 


HE  held  the  head  all  horrible  with  gore ; 

Nor  of  the  woman  in  that  act  was  seen 
Aught  save  the  alluring  locks  and  beauteous  mien 
Hail,  heroine,  hail !  ”  all  voices  cried  before. 


At  the  glad  news,  the  damsels  came  with  speed ; 
Some  kissed  her  feet,  and  some  her  garment’s  hem, 
None  her  right  hand,  for  terrible  to  them 
Was  the  remembrance  of  that  fatal  deed. 


A  hundred  prophets  sang  the  matron’s  fame ; 

“  Fly  round  the  world,  thine  everlasting  name ! 

The  sun  through  all  his  march  shall  tell  thy  story. 

Great  from  that  dread  achievement  though  she  rose, 

Greater  she  stood  at  this  triumphant  close, 

For  she  was  humble  in  the  height  of  glory. 

From  the  Italian,  by  James  Montgomery. 


219 


JEWISH  BATTLE-SONG. 

0  !  Princes  of  Jacob  !  the  strength  and  the  stay 
Of  the  daughter  of  Zion,  —  now  up,  and  array! 

Lo,  the  hunters  have  struck  her,  and  bleeding  alone, 
Like  a  pard  in  the  desert,  she  maketh  her  moan  ; 

Up,  with  war-horse  and  banner,  with  spear  and  with  sword, 

On  the  spoiler  go  down  in  the  might  of  the  Lord  ! 

She  lay  sleeping  in  beauty,  more  fair  than  the  moon, 

With  her  children  about  her,  like  stars  in  night’s  noon, 

When  they  came  to  her  covert,  these  spoilers  of  Rome, 

And  are  trampling  her  children,  and  rifling  her  home ; 

0,  up,  noble  chiefs !  would  you  leave  her  forlorn 
To  be  crushed  by  the  Gentile,  a  mock  and  a  scorn  ? 

Their  legions  and  cohorts  are  fair  to  behold, 

With  their  iron-clad  bosoms  and  helmets  of  gold ; 

But  gorgeous  and  glorious  in  pride  though  they  be, 

Their  avarice  is  broad  as  the  grasp  of  the  sea ; 

They  talk  not  of  pity ;  the  mercies  they  feel 
Are  cruel  and  fierce  as  their  death-doing  steel. 

Will  they  laugh  at  the  hind  they  have  struck  to  the  earth, 

When  the  bold  stag  of  Naphtali  bursts  on  their  mirth  ? 

Will  they  dare  to  deride  and  insult,  when  in  wrath 
The  lion  of  Judah  glares  wild  in  their  path  ? 

0,  say,  'will  they  mock  us,  when  down  on  the  plain 
The  hoofs  of  our  steeds  thunder  over  their  slain  ? 

They  come  with  their  plumes  tossing  haughty  and  free 
And  white  as  the  crest  of  the  old  hoary  sea ; 

Yet  they  float  not  so  fierce  as  the  wild  lion’s  mane, 

To  whose  lair  ye  have  tracked  him,  whose  whelps  ye  have  slain ; 
But,  dark  mountain  archer  !  your  sinews  to-day 

Must  be  strong  as  the  spear-shaft  to  drive  in  the  prey. 

220 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

And  the  tribes  are  all  gathering ;  the  valleys  ring  out 
To  the  peal  of  the  trumpet,  the  timbrel,  the  shout : 

Lo,  Zebulon  comes ;  he  remembers  the  day 
When  they  periled  their  lives  to  the  death  in  the  fray ; 
And  the  riders  of  Naphtali  burst  from  the  hills 
Like  a  swollen  mountain-stream  in  the  pride  of  its  rills. 

Like  Sisera’s  rolls  the  foe’s  chariot-wheel, 

And  he  comes,  like  the  Philistine,  girded  in  steel ; 

Like  both  shall  he  perish,  if  ye  are  but  men, 

If  your  javelins  and  hearts  are  as  mighty  as  then  ; 

He  trusts  in  his  buckler,  his  spear,  and  his  sword ; 

His  strength  is  but  weakness ;  —  we  trust  in  the  Lord ! 


PALESTINE. 

T  land  of  Judcea !  thrice  hallowed  of  song, 
lere  the  holiest  of  memories  pilgrim-like  throng ; 
the  shade  of  thy  palms,  by  the  shores  of  thy  sea, 
On  the  hills  of  thy  beauty,  my  heart  is  with  thee. 

With  the  eye  of  a  spirit  I  look  on  that  shore, 

Where  pilgrim  and  prophet  have  lingered  before ; 

With  the  glide  of  a  spirit  I  traverse  the  sod 
Made  bright  by  the  steps  of  the  angels  of  God. 

Blue  sea  of  the  hills !  in  my  spirit  I  hear 
Thy  waters,  Gennesaret,  chime  on  my  car ; 

Where  the  Lowly  and  Just  with  the  people  sat  down, 

And  thy  spray  on  the  dust  of  Ilis  sandals  was  thrown. 

Beyond  arc  Bethulia’s  mountains  of  green, 

And  the  desolate  hills  of  the  wild  Gadarcne ; 

And  I  pause  on  the  goat-crags  of  Tabor  to  see 
The  gleam  of  thy  waters,  0  dark  Galilee ! 

Hark  !  a  sound  in  the  valley  !  where,  swollen  and  strong, 

Thy  river,  0  Kishon,  is  sweeping  along ; 

Where  the  Canaanite  strove  with  Jehovah  in  vain, 

And  the  torrent  grew  dark  with  the  blood  of  the  slain. 

There  down  from  his  mountains  stern  Zebulon  came, 

And  Naphtali’s  stag,  with  his  eyeballs  of  flame, 

And  the  chariots  of  Jabin  rolled  harmlessly  on, 

For  the  arm  of  the  Lord  was  Abinoam’s  son. 

225 


INVOCATION. 


ND  come,  ye  faithful!  round  Messiah  seen, 

With  a  soft  harmony  of  tears  and  light 
Streaming  through  all  your  spiritual  mien, 

As  in  calm  clouds  of  pearly  stillness  bright, 

Showers  weave  with  sunshine,  and  transpierce  their  slight, 
Ethereal  cradle.  From  your  heart  subdued 

All  haughty  dreams  of  power  had  winged  their  flight, 

And  left  high  place  for  martyr  fortitude, 

True  faith,  long-suffering  love.  Come  to  me,  come ! 

And,  as  the  seas  beneath  your  Master’s  tread 
Fell  into  crystal  smoothness,  round  him  spread 
Like  the  clear  pavement  of  his  heavenly  house ; 

So  in  your  presence  let  the  soul’s  great  deep 
Sink  to  the  gentleness  of  infant  sleep. 

Felicia  Hemans. 


SONNETS. 

I.  THE  ANNUNCIATION. 

OWLIEST  of  women,  and  most  glorified  ! 

In  thy  still  beauty  sitting  calm  and  lone, 

A  brightness  round  thee  grew,  —  and  by  thy  side, 
Kindling  the  air,  a  form  ethereal  shone, 

Solemn,  yet  breathing  gladness.  From  her  throne 
A  queen  had  risen  with  more  imperial  eye, 

A  stately  prophetess  of  victory 

From  her  proud  lyre  had  struck  a  tempest’s  tone, 

For  such  high  tidings  unto  thee  were  brought, 

Chosen  of  Heaven  !  that  hour :  —  but  thou,  0  thou  ! 

E'en  as  a  flower  with  gracious  rains  o’erfraught, 

Thy  virgin  head  beneath  its  crown  did  bow, 

And  take  to  thy  meek  breast  the  all  holy  Word, 

And  own  thyself  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord. 


II.  THE  SONG  OF  THE  VIRGIN. 


ET  as  a  sun-burst  flushing  mountain  snow 
Fell  the  celestial  touch  of  fire  erelong 
On  the  pale  stillness  of  thy  thoughtful  brow, 
And  thy  calm  spirit  lightened  into  song. 
Unconsciously,  perchance,  yet  free  and  strong 
Flowed  the  majestic  joy  of  tuneful  words, 

Which  living  harps  the  choirs  of  heaven  among 
Might  well  have  linked  with  their  divinest  chords. 

Full  many  a  strain,  borne  far  on  glory’s  blast, 

Shall  leave,  where  once  its  haughty  music  passed, 

No  more  to  memory  than  a  reed’s  faint  sigh  ; 

While  thine,  O  childlike  virgin  !  through  all  time 
Shall  send  its  fervent  breath  o’er  every  clime, 

Being  of  God,  and  therefore  not  to  die. 

Felicia  Honans. 


THE  VIRGIN. 


OTHER !  whose  virgin  bosom  was  uncrost 
With  the  least  shade  of  thought  to  sin  allied 
Woman  !  above  all  women  glorified, 

Our  tainted  nature’s  solitary  boast; 

Purer  than  foam  on  central  oceaii  tost, 

Brighter  than  eastern  skies  at  daybreak  strewn 
With  fancied  roses,  than  the  unblemished  moon 
Before  her  wane  begins  on  heaven’s  blue  coast; 

Thy  image  falls  to  earth.  Yet  some,  I  ween, 

ISiot  unforgiven  the  suppliant  knee  might  bend, 

As  to  a  visible  Power,  in  which  did  blend 
All  that  was  mixed  and  reconciled  in  thee 
Of  mother’s  love  with  maiden  purity, 

Of  high  with  low,  celestial  with  terrene. 

William  JFordsworth. 


- 


THE  SISTINE  MADONNA. 


Raphael,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


MARY  THE  MYTHICAL  MADONNA. 


jtHiif  0  woman  that  ever  lived  on  the  face  of  the  earth  has 


been  an  object  of  such  wonder,  admiration,  and 
worship  as  Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus.  Around  her 
poetry,  painting,  and  music  have  raised  clouds  of 
ever-shifting  colors,  splendid  as  those  around  the  setting  sun. 
Exalted  above  earth,  she  has  been  shown  to  us  as  a  goddess, 
yet  a  goddess  of  a  type  wholly  new.  She  is  not  Venus,  not 
Minerva,  not  Ceres,  nor  Vesta.  No  goddess  of  classic  antiq¬ 
uity  or  of  any  other  mythology  at  all  resembles  that  ideal 
being  whom  Christian  art  and  poetry  present  to  us  in  Mary. 
Neither  is  she  like  all  of  them  united.  She  differs  from  them 
as  Christian  art  differs  from  classical,  wholly  and  entirely. 
Other  goddesses  have  been  worshiped  for  beauty,  for  grace, 
for  power.  Mary  has  been  the  Goddess  of  Poverty  and  Sor¬ 
row,  of  Pity  and  Mercy ;  and  as  suffering  is  about  the  only 
certain  thing  in  human  destiny,  she  has  numbered  her  adorers 
in  every  land  and  climate  and  nation.  In  Mary,  womanhood, 
in  its  highest  and  tenderest  development  of  the  mother,  has 
been  the  object  of  worship.  Motherhood  with  large  capacities 
of  sorrow,  with  the  memory  of  bitter  sufferings,  with  sympa¬ 
thies  large  enough  to  embrace  every  anguish  of  humanity !  — 
such  an  object  of  veneration  has  inconceivable  power. 

•The  art  history  that  has  gradually  grown  up  around  the 
personality  of  the  Madonna  is  entirely  mythical.  It  is  a  long 
poem,  recorded  in  many  a  legend  or  tradition,  and  one  which 
one  may  see  represented,  scene  after  scene,  in  many  a  shrine 
and  church  and  monastery  devoted  to  her  honor. 

0  According  to  these  apocryphal  accounts,  the  marvels  begin 
before  her  birth.  Her  parents,  Joachim  and  Anna,  of  the  royal 

race  of  David,  are  childless,  and  bitterly  grieved  on  this  ac- 

211 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  IIIST OK  Y. 


count.  On  a  great  festival-day,  when  Joachim  brings  a  double 
offering  to  the  Lord,  he  is  rejected  by  the  priest,  saying,  “  It 
is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  bring  thine  offering,  since  thou  hast 
not  begotten  issue  in  Israel.”  And  Joachim  was  exceedingly 
sorrowful,  and  went  away  into  the  wilderness,  and  fasted  forty 
days  and  forty  nights,  and  said,  “  Until  the  Lord  my  God  look 
upon  mine  affliction,  my  oidy  meat  shall  be  prayer.”  Then 
follows  a  long  account  of  the  affliction  of  Anna,  and  how  she 
sat  down  under  a  laurel-tree  in  the  garden,  and  bemoaned  her¬ 
self  and  prayed.  “  And  behold,  the  angel  of  the  Lord  stood  by 
her,  and  said,  Anna,  thy  prayer  is  heard ;  thou  slialt  bring 
forth,  and  thy  child  shall  be  blessed  through  the  whole  world. 
See,  also,  thy  husband  Joachim  is  coming  with  his  shepherds, 
for  an  angel  hath  comforted  him  also.  And  Anna  went  forth 
to  meet  her  husband,  and  Joachim  came  from  the  pasture,  and 
they  met  at  the  golden  gate,  and  Anna  ran  and  embraced  her 
husband,  and  said,  Now  know  I  that  the  Lord  hath  blessed 
me.” 

Then  comes  the  birth  of  the  auspicious  infant,  with  all  man¬ 
ner  of  signs  of  good  omen.  “  And  when  the  child  was  three 
years  old,  Joachim  said :  Let  us  invite  the  daughters  of  Israel, 
that  they  may  each  take  a  taper  and  a  lamp,  and  attend  on 
her,  that  the  child  may  not  turn  back  from  the  temple  of  the 
Lord.  And  being  come  to  the  temple,  they  placed  her  on  the 
first  step,  and  she  ascended  all  the  steps  to  the  altar,  and  the 
high-priest  received  her  there,  and  kissed  her  and  blessed  her, 
saying,  Mary,  the  Lord  hath  magnified  thy  name  to  all  genera¬ 
tions  ;  in  thee  shall  all  nations  of  the  earth  be  blessed.” 

A  magnificent  picture  by  Titian,  in  the  Academy  at  Venice, 
represents  this  scene.  Everything  about  it  is  in  gorgeous  style, 
except  the  little  Mary,  who  is  a  very  literal,  earthly,  chubby  bit 
of  flesh  and  blood,  and  not  in  the  least  celestial.  In  the  Church 
of  Santa  Maria  della  Salute  in  Venice,  however,  the  child  Mary, 
going  up  the  temple  steps,  is  a  perfect  little  angel  with  a  cloud 
of  golden  hair.  Then  we  have  flocks  of  pictures  representing  • 
the  sacred  girlhood  of  Mary.  She  is  vowed  to  the  temple 
service,  and  spins  and  weaves  and  embroiders  the  purple  and 

232 


MARY  THE  MYTHICAL  MADONNA. 


fine  linen  for  sacerdotal  purposes.  She  is  represented  as  looked 
upon  with  awe  and  veneration  by  all  the  holy  women  who 
remain  in  the  courts  of  the  Lord,  especially  by  the  prophetess 
Anna,  who  declares  to  her  her  high  destiny.  It  is  recorded 
that  her  life  was  sustained  by  the  ministry  of  angels,  who 
daily  visited  and  brought  to  her  the  bread  of  Paradise  and 
the  water  of  the  River  of  Life.  It  is  the  tradition  of  the 
Greek  Church  that  Mary  alone  of  all  her  sex  was  allowed  to 
enter  the  Holy  of  Holies,  and  pray  before  the  ark  of  the 
covenant. 

In  her  fourteenth  year  the  priest  announced  to  her  that  it 
was  time  for  her  to  be  given  in  marriage,  but  she  declared 
that  she  had  vowed  a  life  of  virginity,  and  declined.  But  the 
high-priest  told  her  that  he  had  received  a  message  from  the 
Lord,  and  so  she  submitted.  Then  the  high-priest  inquired  of 
the  Lord,  and  was  bid  to  order  all  the  widowers  of  the  people 
to  come,  each  with  his  rod  in  his  hand,  that  the  Lord  might 
choose  one  by  a  sign.  And  Joseph  the  carpenter  came  with 
the  rest,  and  presented  his  rod,  and  lo !  a  white  dove  flew  from 
it,  and  settled  upon  his  head.  According  to  St.  Jerome,  how¬ 
ever,  the  tradition  has  another  version.  The  rods  of  the  can¬ 
didates  were  placed  in  the  temple  over  night,  and  lo  !  in  the 
morning  Joseph’s  rod  had  burst  forth  in  leaves  and  flowers. 
The  painting  by  Raphael,  in  the  Brera  at  Milan,  as  fresh  in 
color  now  as  if  but  of  yesterday,  gives  the  mediaeval  concep¬ 
tion  of  that  wedding. 

Then  come  pictures  of  the  wonderful  Annunciation,  thick  as 
lilies  in  a  meadow.  The  angel  rainbow-wings,  bedropped  with 
gold,  drift  noiselessly  like  a  cloud  into  the  oratory  where  the 
holy  virgin  is  in  prayer,  and  bring  her  the  wonderful  story. 
The  visitation  to  her  cousin  Elizabeth,  the  birth  of  the  infant 
Jesus,  the  visit  of  the  shepherds,  the  adoration  of  the  Magi, 
come  to  our  minds  with  a  confused  and  dazzling  memory  of 
all  that  human  art  can  do,  with  splendor  of  colors  and  richness 
of  fancy,  to  embellish  the  theme.  The  presentation  in  the 
temple,  the  flight  into  Egypt,  the  repose  by  the  way,  the 
home-life  at  Nazareth,  each  has  its  clusters  of  mythical  stories 

2.3.3 


WOMAN  IX  SACRED  HISTORY. 


that  must  be  understood  to  read  aright  the  paintings  that  tell 
them.  We  behold  angels  bending  the  branches  of  the  trees 
to  give  the  sacred  wanderers  fruit,  —  angels  everywhere  min¬ 
istering  about  the  simple  offices  of  life,  pouring  water  to  wash 
the  infant,  holding  the  napkin,  playing  around  him.  Then  come 
the  darker  scenes  of  the  passion,  the  Via  Dolorosa,  the  station 
by  the  cross,  the  sepulchers,  in  which  all  of  pathos  that  human 
art  can  produce  has  been  employed  to  celebrate  the  memory 
of  that  mother’s  sorrows. 

There  is  a  very  ancient  tradition  spoken  of  by  St.  Ambrose, 
in  the  fourth  century,  as  being  then  generally  believed,  that 
Christ,  after  his  resurrection,  appeared  first  to  his  mother,  —  she, 
who  had  his  last  cares  for  anything  earthly,  was  first  to  wel¬ 
come  his  victory  over  death.  The  story  as  given  by  Mrs. 
Jameson,  in  her  “  Legends  of  the  Madonna,”  is,  that  Mary, 
when  all  was  finished,  retired  to  her  solitude  to  pray,  and  wait 
for  the  promised  resurrection;  and  while  she  prayed,  with  the 
open  volume  of  the  prophecies  before  her,  a  company  of  angels 
entered,  waving  their  palms  and  singing,  and  then  came  Jesus, 
in  white,  having  in  his  left  hand  the  standard  of  the  cross  as 
one  just  returned  from  Hades,  victorious  over  sin  and  death, 
and  with  him  came  patriarchs  and  prophets  and  holy  saints  of 
old.  But  the  mother  was  not  comforted  till  she  heard  the  voice 
of  her  son.  Then  he  raised  his  hand  and  blessed  her,  and 
said,  “  I  salute  thee,  0  my  mother,”  and  she  fell  upon  his  neck 
weeping  tears  of  joy.  Then  he  bade  her  be  comforted,  and 
weep  no  more,  for  the  pain  of  death  had  passed  away,  and  the 
gates  of  hell  had  not  prevailed  against  him;  and  she  thanked 
him,  meekly,  on  her  knees,  that  he  had  been  pleased  to  bring 
redemption  to  man  and  make  her  the  humble  instrument  of 
his  mercy.  This  legend  has  something  in  it  so  grateful  to 
human  sympathies,  that  the  heart  involuntarily  believes  it. 
Though  the  sacred  record  is  silent,  we  may  believe  that  He, 
who  loved  his  own  unto  the  end,  did  not  forget  his  mother  in 
her  hour  of  deepest  anguish. 

After  the  resurrection,  the  only  mention  made  of  Mary  by 
the  Evangelists  is  an  incidental  one  in  the  first  part  of  Acts. 

234 


MARY  THE  MYTHICAL  MADONNA. 

She  is  spoken  of  as  remaining-  in  prayer  with  the  small  band 
of  Christian  disciples,  waiting  for  the  promised  Spirit  which 
descended  upon  the  day  of  Pentecost.  After  this  she  fades 
from  our  view  entirely.  According  to  the  mythical  history, 
however,  her  career  of  wonder  and  glory  is  only  begun.  Im¬ 
agination  blossoms  and  runs  wild  in  a  tropical  landscape  of 
poetic  glories. 

Mary  is  now  the  mother  of  the  Christian  Church.  Before 
departing  on  their  divine  missions,  the  apostles  come  and 
solicit  her  blessing.  The  apocryphal  books  detail,  at  length, 
the  circumstances  of  her  death  and  burial,  and  the  ascension 
of  her  glorified  body  to  heaven,  commonly  called  the  Assump¬ 
tion.  We  make  a  few  extracts:  “And  on  a  certain  day  the 
heart  of  Mary  was  filled  with  an  inexpressible  longing  to  be¬ 
hold  her  divine  son,  and  she  wept  abundantly ;  and,  lo,  an 
angel  appeared  before  her,  clothed  in  light  as  in  a  garment, 
and  he  saluted  her,  and  said,  Hail,  0  Mary !  blessed  be  he  that 
giveth  salvation  to  Israel !  I  bring  thee  here  a  palm  branch, 
gathered  in  Paradise  ;  command  that  it  be  carried  before  thy 
bier  on  the  day  of  thy  death,  for  in  three  days  thy  soul  shall 
leave  thy  body  and  thou  shalt  enter  Paradise,  where  thy  son 
awaits  thy  coming.”  Mary  requested,  in  reply,  three  things,  — 
the  name  of  the  angel ;  that  she  might  once  more  see  the 
apostles  before  her  departure  ;  and  that  on  leaving  the  body 
no  evil  spirit  should  have  power  to  affright  her  soul.  The  an¬ 
gel  declared  his  name  to  be  the  Great  and  Wonderful,  promised 
the  reunion  of  the  apostles  around  her  dying  bed,  and  assured 
her  against  the  powers  of  darkness.  “And  having  said  these 
words,  the  angel  departed  into  heaven ;  and,  lo,  the  palm  branch 
which  he  had  left  shed  light  in  every  leaf,  and  sparkled  as 
the  stars  of  the  morning.  Then  Mary  lighted  the  lamps  and 
prepared  her  bed,  and  waited  for  the  hour  to  come.  And  in 
the  same  instant  John,  who  was  preaching  in  Ephesus,  and 
Peter,  who  was  preaching  at  Antioch,  and  all  the  other  apostles, 
who  were  dispersed  in  different  parts  of  the  world,  were  sud¬ 
denly  caught  up  by  a  miraculous  power,  and  found  themselves 
before  tl  le  habitation  of  Mary.  When  Mary  saw  them  all 

235 


WOMAN-  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


around  her,  she  blessed  and  thanked  the  Lord,  and  placed  in 
the  hands  of  St.  John  the  shining  palm,  and  desired  that  he 
should  bear  it  at  the  time  of  her  burial.” 

It  is  then  recorded  that  at  the  third  hour  of  the  night  there 
came  a  sound  as  of  a  rushing  mighty  wind  upon  the  house, 
and  the  chamber  was  filled  with  a  heavenly  odor,  and  Jesus 
himself  appeared  with  a  great  train  of  patriarchs  and  prophets, 
who  surrounded  the  dying  bed,  singing  hymns  of  joy ;  and 
Jesus  said  to  his  mother,  “Arise,  my  beloved,  mine  elect, 
come  with  me  from  Lebanon,  mine  espoused,  and  receive  the 
crown  prepared  for  thee.”  And  Mary  answered,  “  My  heart  is 
ready ;  in  the  book  is  it  written  of  me,  Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy 
will.”  Then  amid  songs  of  angels,  the  soul  of  Mary  left  her 
body  and  passed  to  the  arms  of  Jesus.  A  beautiful  little  pic¬ 
ture  by  Fra  Angelico  represents  this  scene.  The  soul  of  Mary 
is  seen  as  an  infant  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,  who  looks  down  on 
it  with  heavenly  tenderness.  The  lifeless  form,  as  it  lies  sur¬ 
rounded  by  the  weeping  apostles,  has  that  sacred  and  touching 
beauty  that  so  often  seals  with  the  seal  of  Heaven  the  face 
of  the  dead.  It  is  a  picture  painted  by  the  heart,  and  worthy 
to  be  remembered  for  a  lifetime. 

Then  follows  an  account  of  the  funeral,  and  where  the  body 
was  laid ;  but,  like  that  of  Jesus,  it  was  not  destined  to  see 
corruption,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day  she  rose  in 
immortal  youth  and  beauty,  and  ascended  to  heaven  amid 
troops  of  angels,  blowing  their  silver  trumpets  and  singing  as 
they  rose,  “Who  is  she  that  riseth  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as 
the  sun,  terrible  as  an  army  with  banners  ?  ”  The  legend 
goes  on  to  say  that  Thomas  was  not  present,  and  that  when 
he  arrived  he  refused  to  believe  in  her  resurrection,  and  de¬ 
sired  that  her  tomb  should  be  opened ;  and  when  it  was 
opened,  it  was  found  full  of  lilies  and  roses.  Then  Thomas, 
looking  up  to  heaven,  beheld  her  in  glory,  and  she,  for  the 
assurance  of  his  faith,  threw  down  to  him  her  girdle. 

Thus  far  the  legends.*  One  may  stand  in  the  Academy  in 

*  The  sources  from  which  these  are  drawn  are  the  apocryphal  hooks  of  the  New  Testa¬ 
ment. 


236 


MARY  THE  MYTHICAL  MADONNA. 

Venice  and  see  tlie  scene  of  Mary’s  ascension  in  the  great 
picture  of  Titian,  which  seems  to  lift  one  off  one’s  feet,  and 
fairly  draw  one  upward  in  its  glory  of  color  and  its  ecstasy 
of  triumphant  joy.  It  is  a  charming  feature  in  this  picture 
that  the  holy  mother  is  represented  as  borne  up  by  myriads 
of  lovely  little  children.  Such  a  picture  is  a  vivid  rendering 
to  the  eye  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  which  produced  it. 

Once  started,  the  current  of  enthusiasm  for  the  Madonna 
passed  all  bounds,  and  absorbed  into  itself  all  that  belonged  to 
the  Saviour  of  mankind.  All  the  pity,  the  mercy,  the  sympathy, 
of  Jesus  were  forgotten  and  overshadowed  in  the  image  of  this 
divine  mother.  Christ,  to  the  mind  of  the  Middle  Ages,  was 
only  the  awful  Judge,  whom  Michael  Angelo  painted  in  his  ter¬ 
rific  picture  grasping  thunderbolts,  and  dealing  damnation  on 
the  lost,  while  his  pitiful  mother  hides  her  eyes  from  the  sight. 

Dr.  Pusey,  in  his  “  Eirenicon,”  traces  the  march  of  mari- 
olatry  through  all  the  countries  of  the  world.  He  shows  how 
to  Mary  have  been  ascribed,  one  after  another,  all  the  divine 
attributes  and  offices.  How  she  is  represented  commanding 
her  son  in  heaven  with  the  authority  of  a  mother ;  and  how 
he  is  held  to  owe  to  her  submissive  obedience.  How  she, 
being  identified  with  him  in  all  that  he  is  and  does,  is  re¬ 
ceived  with  him  in  the  sacrament,  and  is  manifest  in  the  real 
presence.  In  short,  how,  by  the  enormous  growth  of  an  idea, 
there  comes  to  be  at  last  no  God  but  Mary.  Martin  Luther 
describes,  in  his  early  experiences,  how  completely  the  idea 
of  the  true  Redeemer  was  hidden  from  his  mind  by  this  style 
of  representation  ;  that  in  the  ceremony  of  the  mass  he  trem¬ 
bled,  and  his  knees  sunk  under  him  for  fear,  on  account  of  the 
presence  of  Christ  the  Judge  of  the  earth.  When  we  look  back 
to  the  earlier  ecclesiastical  history,  Are  find  no  trace  of  all  this 
peculiar  veneration.  None  of  the  Apocryphal  Gospels  have 
higher  antiquity  than  the  third  or  fourth  century. 

In  Smith’s  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  article  Mary ,  this  question 
is  settled  by  a  comprehensive  statement.*  “  What,”  the  writer 
says,  “was  the  origin  of  this  cultusf  Certainly  not  the  Bible. 

*  The  article  is  by  Rev.  F.  Meyrick,  M.  A.,  one  of  her  Majesty’s  inspectors  of  schools, 
late  fellow  and  tutor  of  Trinity  College,  Oxford. 

237 


WOMAN  m  SACRED  HISTORY. 

There  is  not  a  word  there  from  which  it  could  be  inferred, 
nor  in  the  creeds,  nor  in  the  fathers  of  the  first  five  centuries. 
We  may  trace  every  page  they  have  left  us,  and  we  shall 
find  nothing  ot  the  kind.  There  is  nothing  of  the  sort  in  the 
supposed  works  of  Hernias  and  Barnabas,  nor  in  the  real  works 
ot  Clement,  Ignatius,  and  Polycarp ;  that  is,  the  doctrine  is 
not  to  be  found  in  the  first  century.  There  is  nothing  in 
Justin  Martyr,  Tatian,  Anatliagoras,  Theopliilus,  Clement  of 
Alexandria,  Tertullian ;  that  is  to  say,  nothing  in  the  second 
century.” 

In  the  same  manner  he  reviews  the  authors  of  the  third, 
the  fourth,  the  fifth  century,  and  shows  that  there  are  no 
traces  of  this  style  of  feeling.  Moreover,  he  cites  passages 
from  the  Christian  fathers  of  the  first  three  or  four  centuries, 
where  Mary  is  as  freely  spoken  of  and  criticised,  and  repre¬ 
sented  subject  to  sins  of  infirmity,  as  other  Christians.  Ter¬ 
tullian  speaks  of  her  “  unbelief.”  Origen  interprets  the  sword 
that  should  pierce  through  her  heart  as  “unbelief”;  and  in 
the  fourth  century,  St.  Basil  gives  the  same  interpretation ;  in 
the  fifth  century,  St.  Chrysostom  accuses  her  of  excessive  am¬ 
bition  and  foolish  arrogance  and  vainglory,  in  wishing  to  speak 
with  Jesus  while  engaged  in  public  ministries.  Several  others 
are  quoted,  commenting  upon  her  in  a  manner  that  must  be 
painful  to  the  sensibility  of  even  those  who  never  cherished 
for  her  a  superstitious  veneration.  No  person  of  delicate  ap¬ 
preciation  of  character  can  read  the  brief  narrative  of  the  New 
Testament  and  not  feel  that  such  comments  do  great  injustice 
to  the  noblest  and  loveliest  among  women. 

The  character  of  Mary  has  suffered  by  reaction  from  the 
idolatrous  and  fulsome  adoration  which  has  been  bestowed  on 
her.  In  the  height  of  the  controversy  between  Protestants  and 
the  Romish  church  there  has  been  a  tendency  to  the  side  of 
unjust  depreciation  on  the  part  of  the  former  to  make  up  for 
the  unscriptural  excesses  of  the  latter.  What,  then,  was  the 
time  character  of  Mary,  highly  favored,  and  blessed  among 
women  ?  It  can  only  be  inferred  by  the  most  delicate  analysis 
of  the  little  that  the  Scripture  has  given  ;  this  we  reserve  for 
another  article. 

238 


ON  A  PICTURE  OF  THE  VIRGIN  MARY 

BEARING  DOVES  TO  SACRIFICE. 

Y  eyes  climb  slowly  up,  as  by  a  stair, 

To  seek  a  picture  on  my  chamber  wall,  — 

A  picture  of  the  Mother  of  our  Lord, 

Hung  where  the  latest  twilight  shadows  fall. 

My  lifted  eyes  behold  a  childlike  face, 

Under  a  veil  of  woman’s  holiest  thought, 

O’ershadowed  by  the  mystery  of  grace, 

And  mystery  of  mercy  —  God  hath  wrought. 

Down  through  the  dim  old  temple,  moving  slow, 

Her  drooping  lids  scarce  lifted  from  the  ground, 

As  if  she  faintly  heard  the  distant  flow 

Of  far-off  seas  of  grief  she  could  not  sound. 

I  think  archangels  would  not  count  it  sin, 

If,  underneath  the  veil  that  hides -her  eyes, 

They,  seeing  all  things,  saw  the  soul  within 
Held  more  of  mother-love  than  sacrifice. 

She  walks  erect,  the  Virgin  undefiled ; 

Back  from  her  throat  the  loose  robe  falls  apart, 

And  e’en  as  she  would  clasp  her  royal  Child, 

She  holds  the  dovelets  to  her  tender  heart. 

No  white  wing  trembles  ’neath  her  pitying  palm, 

No  feather  flutters  in  this  last  warm  nest, 

And  thus  she  bears  them  on,  while  solemn  psalm 
M  akes  dim,  prophetic  stirrings  in  her  breast. 

239 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


Sweet  Hebrew  Mother !  many  a  woman  shares 
Thy  crucifixion  of  her  hopes  and  loves, 

And  in  her  arms  to  death  unshrinking  bears 
Her  precious  things,  —  even  her  turtle-doves. 

But  often,  ere  the  temple’s  marble  floor 
Has  ceased  the  echo  of  her  parting  feet, 

Her  gifts  prove  worthless,  —  thine  is  evermore 
The  gift  of  gifts,  transcendent  and  complete. 

We  mothers,  too,  have  treasures  all  our  own, 

And,  one  by  one,  oft  see  them  sacrificed : 

Thou,  Blessed  among  women,  thou  alone 

Hast  held  within  thine  arms  the  dear  Child-Christ. 

Therefore  mine  eyes  mount  up,  as  by  a  stair, 

To  seek  the  picture  on  my  chamber  wall ; 

Therefore  my  soul  climbs  oft  the  steeps  of  prayer, 

To  rest  where  shadows  of  thy  Son’s  cross  fall. 

Catholic  World. 


240 


THE  ANNUNCIATION. 

“And  the  angel  came  in  unto  her,  and  said,  Hail,  thou  that  art  highly  favored,  the  Lord  is 
with  thee  :  blessed  art  thou  among  women.”  —  St.  Luke  i.  28. 

THOU  who  deign’st  to  sympathize 
With  all  our  frail  and  fleshly  ties, 

Maker,  yet  Brother  dear, 

Forgive  the  too  presumptuous  thought, 

If,  calming  wayward  grief,  1  sought 
To  gaze  on  Thee  too  near. 

Yet  sure  ’t  was  not  presumption,  Lord, 

’T  was  Thine  own  comfortable  word 
That  made  the  lesson  known  : 

Of  all  the  dearest  bonds  we  prove, 

Thou  countest  sons’  and  mothers’  love 
Most  sacred,  most  Thine  own. 

When  wandering  here  a  little  span, 

Thou  took’st  on  Thee  to  rescue  man, 

Thou  hadst  no  earthly  sire  : 

That  wedded  love  we  prize  so  dear, 

As  if  our  heaven  and  home  were  here, 

It  lit  in  Thee  no  fire. 

On  no  sweet  sister’s  faithful  breast 
W  ouldst  Thou  Thine  aching  forehead  rest, 

On  no  kind  brother  lean : 

But  who,  0  perfect  filial  heart, 

Ere  did  like  Thee  a  true  son’s  part, 

Endearing,  firm,  serene  ? 

Thou  wept’st,  meek  maiden,  mother  mild, 

Thou  wept’st  upon  thy  sinless  Child. 

Thy  very  heart  was  riven  : 

241 


THE  ANNUNCIA  TIOX. 

And  yet,  what  mourning  matron  here 
Would  deem  thy  sorrows  bought  too  dear 
By  all  on  this  side  heaven  ? 

A  Son  that  never  did  amiss, 

That  never  shamed  His  mother’s  kiss, 

Nor  crossed  her  fondest  prayer : 

Even  from  the  tree  he  deigned  to  bow 
For  her  His  agonized  brow, 

Her,  His  sole  earthly  care. 

Ave  Maria  !  blessed  maid  ! 

Lily  of  Eden’s  fragrant  shade, 

Who  can  express  the  love 
That  nurtured  thee  so  pure  and  sweet, 

Making  thy  heart  a  shelter  meet 
For  Jesus’  holy  Dove  ? 

Ave  Maria  !  mother  blest, 

To  whom,  caressing  and  caressed, 

Clings  the  Eternal  Child : 

Favored  beyond  Archangels’  dream, 

When  first  on  thee  with  tenderest  gleam 
Thy  new-born  Saviour  smiled  :  — 

Ave  Maria  !  thou  whose  name 
All  but  adoring  love  may  claim, 

Yet  may  we  reach  thy  shrine  ; 

For  He,  thy  Son  and  Saviour,  vows 
To  crown  all  lowly  lofty  brows 
With  love  and  joy  like  thine. 

Blessed  is  the  womb  that  bare  Him,  — blessed 
The  bosom  where  His  lips  were  pressed. 

But  rat'  er  blessed  are  they 
Who  hear  His  word  and  keep  it  well, 

The  living  homes  where  Christ  shall  dwell, 

And  never  pass  away. 

Rev.  John  Kehle. 

242 


STABAT  MATER.* 

“Now  there  stood  by  the  cross  of  Jesus  his  mother.” —  St.  John  xix.  25. 

T  the  cross  her  station  keeping, 

Stood  the  mournful  Mother  weeping, 

Where  He  hung,  the  dying  Lord ; 

For  her  soul,  of  joy  bereaved, 

Bowed  with  anguish,  deeply  grieved, 

Felt  the  sharp  and  piercing  sword. 

O,  how  sad  and  sore  distressed 
Now  was  she,  that  mother  blessed 
Of  the  sole-begotten  One  ; 

Deep  the  woe  of  her  affliction 
When  she  saw  the  crucifixion 
Of  her  ever-glorious  Son. 

Who  on  Christ’s  dear  mother  gazing, 

Pierced  by  anguish  so  amazing, 

Born  of  woman,  would  not  weep  ? 

Who  on  Christ’s  dear  mother  thinking. 

Such  a  cup  of  sorrow  drinking, 

Would  not  share  her  sorrows  deep? 

For  His  people’s  sins  chastised, 

She  beheld  her  Son  despised, 

Scourged  and  crowned  with  thorns  entwined ; 

Saw  Him  then  from  judgment  taken, 

And  in  death  bv  all  forsaken, 

Till  His  spirit  He  resigned. 

*  It  is  but  just  to  say  that  the  following  version  of  this  celebrated  hymn  is  not 
only  much  shorter  than  the  original,  but  is  altered  from  it  in  the  important  particular 
of  the  prayer  in  the  last  stanza,  which,  in  Jacopone’s  lines,  is  addressed  to  the  Virgin 
herself. 

243 


STAB  AT  MATER. 

Jesu,  may  sucli  deep  devotion 
Stir  in  me  the  same  emotion, 

Fount  of  Love,  Redeemer  kind  ! 

That  my  heart,  fresh  ardor  gaining, 

And  a  purer  love  attaining, 

May  with  Thee  acceptance  find. 

Abridged  from  the  Latin  of  Fra  Jacopone  ( 13tli  century). 

244 


MARY  THE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 

ROM  out  the  cloudy  ecstasies  of  poetry,  painting,  and 
religious  romance,  we  grope  our  way  back  to  the 
simple  story  of  the  New  Testament,  to  find,  if  possi¬ 
ble,  by  careful  study,  the  lineaments  of  the  real  Mary 
the  mother  of  our  Lord.  Who  and  what  really  was  the  woman 
highly  favored  over  all  on  earth,  chosen  by  God  to  be  the  mother 
of  the  Redeemer  of  the  world  ?  It  is  our  impression  that,  the  true 
character  will  be  found  more  sweet,  more  strong,  more  wonder¬ 
ful  in  its  perfect  naturalness  and  humanity,  than  the  idealized, 
superangelic  being  which  has  been  gradually  created  by  poetry 
and  art. 

That  the  Divine  Being,  in  choosing  a  woman  to  be  the  mother, 
the  educator,  and  for  thirty  years  the  most  intimate  friend,  of  his 
son,  should  have  selected  one  of  rare  and  peculiar  excellences 
seems  only  probable.  It  was  from  her  that  the  holy  child,  who 
was  to  increase  iu  wisdom  and  in  stature,  was  to  learn  from  day 
to  day  the  constant  and  needed  lessons  of  inexperienced  infancy 
and  childhood.  Her  lips  taught  him  human  language ;  her 
lessons  taught  him  to  read  the  sacred  records  of  the  law  and  the 
prophets,  and  the  sacred  poetry  of  the  psalms ;  to  her  he  was 
“  subject,”  when  the  ardor  of  childhood  expanding  into  youth  led 
him  to  quit  her  side  and  spend  his  time  in  the  temple  at  the  feet 
of  the  Doctors  of  the  Law ;  with  her  he  lived  in  constant  com¬ 
munion  during  those  silent  and  hidden  years  of  his  youth  that 
preceded  his  mission.  A  woman  so  near  to  Christ,  so  identified 
with  him  in  the  largest  part  of  his  life,  cannot  but  be  a  subject 
of  the  deepest  and  most  absorbing  study  to  the  Christian  heart. 
And  yet  there  is  in  regard  to  this  most  interesting  subject  an 
utter  silence  of  any  authentic  tradition,  so  far  as  we  have  studied, 
of  the  first  two  or  three  centuries.  There  is  nothing  related  by 

245 


WOMAN-  IN  SACRED  IIIS TOBY. 


St.  John,  with  whom  Mary  lived  as  with  a  son  after  the  Saviour’s 
death,  except  the  very  brief  notices  in  his  Gospel.  Upon  this 
subject,  as  upon  that  other  topic  so  exciting  to  the  mere  human 
heart,  the  personal  appearance  of  Jesus,  there  is  a  reticence  that 
impresses  us  like  a  divine  decree  of  secrecy. 

In  all  that  concerns  the  peculiarly  human  relations  of  Jesus, 
the  principle  that  animated  his  apostles  after  the  descent  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  was,  “  Yea,  though  we  have  known  Christ  after  the 
flesh,  yet  now,  henceforth,  know  we  him  no  more.”  His 
family  life  with  his  mother  would  doubtless  have  opened  lovely 
pages  ;  but  it  must  remain  sealed  up  among  those  many  things 
spoken  of  by  St.  John,  which,  if  they  were  recorded,  the 
“  world  itself  could  not  contain  the  books  that  should  be 
written.”  All  that  we  have,  then,  to  build  upon  is  the  brief 
account  given  in  the  Gospels.  The  first  two  chapters  of  St. 
Matthew  and  the  first  two  chapters  of  St.  Luke  are  our  only 
data,  except  one  or  two  very  brief  notices  in  St.  John,  and 
one  slight  mention  in  the  Acts. 

In  part,  our  conception  of  the  character  of  Mary  may  re¬ 
ceive  light  from  her  nationality.  A  fine  human  being  is  never 
the  product  of  one  generation,  but  rather  the  outcome  of  a 
growth  of  ages.  Mary  was  the  offspring  and  flower  of  a  race 
selected,  centuries  before,  from  the  finest  physical  stock  of  the 
world,  watched  over,  trained,  and  cultured,  by  Divine  over¬ 
sight,  in  accordance  with  every  physical  and  mental  law  for 
the  production  of  sound  and  vigorous  mental  and  bodily  con¬ 
ditions.  Her  blood  came  to  her  in  a  channel  of  descent  over 
which  the  laws  of  Moses  had  established  a  watchful  care;  a 
race  where  marriage  had  been  made  sacred,  family  life  a  vital 
point,  and  motherhood  invested  by  Divine  command  with  an 
especial  sanctity.  As  Mary  was  in  a  certain  sense  a  product 
of  the  institutes  of  Moses,  so  it  is  an  interesting  coincidence 
that  she  bore  the  name  of  his  sister,  the  first  and  most  honored 
of  the  line  of  Hebrew  prophetesses,  —  Mary  being  the  Latin 
version  of  the  Hebrew  Miriam.  She  had  also,  as  we  read,  a 
sister,  the  wife  of  Cleopas,  who  bore  the  same  name,  —  a  cus¬ 
tom  not  infrequent  in  Jewish  families.  It  is  suggested,  that, 


246 


MARY  THE  MOTHER  OE  JESUS. 

Miriam  being  a  sacred  name  and  held  in  high  traditionary 
honor,  mothers  gave  it  to  their  daughters,  as  now  in  Spain 
they  call  them  after  the  Madonna  as  a  sign  of  good  omen. 

There  is  evidence  that  Mary  had  not  only  the  sacred  name 
of  the  first  great  prophetess,  but  that  she  inherited,  in  the  line 
of  descent,  the  poetic  and  prophetic  temperament.  She  was  of 
the  royal  line  of  David,  and  poetic  visions  and  capabilities  of 
high  enthusiasm  were  in  her  very  lineage.  The  traditions  ot 
the  holy  and  noble  women  of  her  country’s  history  were  all 
open  to  her  as  sources  of  inspiration.  Miriam,  leading  the 
song  of  national  rejoicing  on  the  shore  of  the  Red  Sea ; 
Deborah,  mother,  judge,  inspirer,  leader,  and  poet  ot  her  na¬ 
tion  ;  Hannah,  the  mother  who  won  so  noble  a  son  of  Heaven 
by  prayer ;  the  daughter  of  Jephtha,  ready  to  sacrifice  herself 
to  her  country ;  Huldah,  the  prophetess,  the  interpreter  of 
God’s  will  to  kings ;  Queen  Esther,  risking  her  life  for  her 
people  ;  and  Judith,  the  beautiful  and  chaste  deliverer  of  her 
nation,  —  these  were  the  spiritual  forerunners  of  Mary,  the 
ideals  with  whom  her  youthful  thoughts  must  have  been  fa¬ 
miliar. 

The  one  hymn  of  Mary’s  composition  which  has  found  place 
in  the  sacred  records  pictures  in  a  striking  manner  the  exalted 
and  poetic  side  of  her  nature.  It  has  been  compared  with  the 
song  of  Hannah  the  mother  of  Samuel,  and  has  been  spoken 
of  as  taken  from  it.  But  there  is  only  that  resemblance  which 
sympathy  of  temperament  and  a  constant  contemplation  of  the 
same  class  of  religious  ideas  would  produce.  It  was  the  ex¬ 
altation  of  a  noble  nature  expressing  itself  in  the  form  and 
imagery  supplied  by  the  traditions  and  history  of  her  nation. 
We  are  reminded  that  Mary  was  a  daughter  of  David  by  cer¬ 
tain  tones  in  her  magnificent  hymn,  which  remind  us  of  many 
of  the  Psalms  of  that  great  heart-poet. 

Being  of  royal  lineage,  Mary  undoubtedly  cherished  in  her 
bosom  the  traditions  of  her  house  with  that  secret  fervor  which 
belongs  to  enthusiastic  natures.  We  are  to  suppose  her,  like 
all  Judaean  women,  intensely  national  in  her  feelings.  She 
identified  herself  with  her  country’s  destiny,  lived  its  life,  suf- 

247 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


fered  in  its  sufferings,  and  waited  and  prayed  for  its  deliver¬ 
ance  and  glories.  This  was  a  time  of  her  nation’s  deep  hu¬ 
miliation.  The  throne  and  scepter  had  passed  from  Judah. 
Conquered,  trodden  down,  and  oppressed,  the  sacred  land  was 
under  the  rule  of  Pagan  Rome;  Herod,  the  appointed  sover¬ 
eign,  was  a  blaspheming,  brutal  tyrant,  using  all  his  power 
to  humiliate  and  oppress ;  and  we  may  imagine  Mary  as  one 
of  the  small  company  of  silent  mourners,  like  Simeon,  and 
Anna  the  prophetess,  who  pondered  the  Scriptures  and  “looked 
for  salvation  in  Israel.”  She  was  betrothed  to  her  cousin 
Joseph,  who  was,  like  herself,  of  the  royal  lineage.  He  was 
a  carpenter,  in  accordance  with  that  excellent  custom  of  the 
Jewish  law  which  required  every  man  to  be  taught  a  mechani¬ 
cal  trade.  They  were  in  humble  circumstances,  and  dwelt  in 
a  village  proverbial  for  the  meanness  and  poverty  of  its  inhab¬ 
itants.  We  can  imagine  them  as  in,  but  not  of,  the  sordid 
and  vulgar  world  of  Nazareth,  living  their  life  of  faith  and 
prayer,  of  mournful  memories  of  past  national  glory,  and  long¬ 
ing  hopes  for  the  future. 

The  account  of  the  visitation  of  the  angel  to  Mary  is  given 
by  St.  Luke,  and  by  him  alone.  His  Gospel  was  written  later 
than  those  of  Matthew  and  Mark,  and  designed  for  the  Greek 
churches,  and  it  seems  but  natural  that  in  preparing  himself  to 
write  upon  this  theme  he  should  seek  information  from  Mary 
herself,  the  fountain-head.  Biblical  critics  discover  traces  of 
this  communication  in  the  different  style  of  these  first  two  chap¬ 
ters  of  St.  Luke.  While  the  rest  of  the  book  is  written  in 
pure  classic  Greek,  this  is  full  of  Hebraisms,  and  has  all  the 
marks  of  being  translated  from  the  Syro-Chaldaic  tongue, 
which  was  the  popular  dialect  of  Palestine,  and  in  which 
Mary  must  have  given  her  narrative. 

Let  us  now  look  at  the  simple  record.  “  And  in  the  sixth 
month  the  angel  Gabriel  was  sent  from  God  unto  a  city  of 
Galilee  named  Nazareth,  to  a  virgin  espoused  to  a  man  named 
Joseph,  of  the  house  of  David,  and  the  virgin’s  name  was 
Mary.  And  the  angel  came  in  unto  her  and  said,  Hail,  highly 
favored  !  the  Lord  is  with  thee  ;  blessed  art  thou  among  women  ! 

248 


MARY  THE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 

And  when  she  saw  him  she  was  troubled  at  his  saying1,  and 
cast  in  her  mind  what  manner  of  salutation  this  should  be.” 

All  these  incidents,  in  their  very  nature,  could  be  known  to 
Mary  alone.  She  was  in  solitude,  without  a  human  witness; 
from  her  the  whole  detail  must  have  come.  It  gives  not  only 
the  interview,  but  the  passing  thoughts  and  emotions  of  her 
mind ;  she  was  agitated,  and  cast  about  what  this  should  mean. 
We  see  in  all  this  that  serious,  calm,  and  balanced  nature 
which  was  characteristic  of  Mary.  Habitually  living  in  the 
contemplation  of  that  spirit-world  revealed  in  the  Scriptures, 
it  was  no  very  startling  thing  to  her  to  see  an  angel  standing 
by,  —  her  thoughts  had  walked  among  the  angels  too  long 
for  that ;  but  his  enthusiastic  words  ot  promise  and  blessing 
agitated  her  soul. 

“And  the  angel  said  unto  her,  Fear  not,  Mary,  for  thou 
hast  found  favor  with  God,  and  behold  thou  shalt  conceive 
in  thy  womb  and  bring  forth  a  son  and  shalt  call  his  name 
.Jesus.  He  shall  be  great,  and  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  the 
Highest,  and  the  Lord  God  shall  give  unto  him  the  throne  of 
his  father*  David,  and  he  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob 
forever,  and  of  his  kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end.” 

A  weaker  woman  would  have  been  dazzled  and  overcome 
by  such  a  vision,  —  appealing  to  all  her  personal  ambition,  — 
and  her  pride  of  nation  and  her  religious  enthusiasm  telling 

*  It  is  remarkable  that  in  this  interview  the  angel,  in  the  same  connection,  informs 
Mary  that  her  son  shall  have  no  human  father,  and  that  David  shall  be  his  ancestor. 
The  inference  is  clear  that  Mary  is  herself  of  the  house  of  David.  Coincident  with 
this  we  find  a  genealogy  of  Jesus  in  this  Gospel  of  Luke  differing  entirely  from  the 
genealogy  in  Matthew.  Very  able  critics  have  therefore  contended  that,  as  Luke  evi¬ 
dently  received  his  account  from  Mary,  the  genealogy  he  gives  is  that  of  her  ancestry, 
and  that  the  “ Heli”  who  is  mentioned  in  Luke  as  the  ancestor  of  Jesus  was  his 
grandfather,  the  father  of  Mary.  Very  skillful  and  able  Biblical  critics  have  supported 
this  view,  among  whom  are  Paulas,  Spanheim,  and  Lightfoot.  The  latter  goes  the 
length  of  saying  that  there  are  no  difficulties  in  these  genealogies  but  what  have  been 
made  by  commentators.  In  Lightfoot,  notes  in  Luke,  third  chapter,  the  argument  is 
given  at  length,  and  he  adds  testimonies  to  show  that  Mary  was  called  the  daughter 
of  Heli  by  the  early  Jewish  Rabbins,  who  traduced  her  for  her  pretensions  in  reference 
to  her  son.  He  quotes  three  passages  from  different  Rabbins  in  the  Jerusalem  Talmud, 
or  “  Chigagah,”  folio  77.  4,  where  this  Mary,  mother  of  Jesus,  is  denounced  as  the 
“daughter  of  Heli  and  mother  of  a  pretender.” 

249 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HIST  Oil  Y. 

her  that  she  had  drawn  the  prize  which  had  been  the  high 
ideal  of  every  Jewish  woman  from  the  beginning  of  time.  But 
Mary  faces  the  great  announcement  with  a  countenance  of  calm 
inquiry.  “  Then  said  Mary  to  the  angel,  How  shall  this  be, 
seeing  I  am  yet  a  virgin  1  ”  And  the  angel  answered  and  said 
unto  her,  “  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon  thee  ;  the  power 
of  the  Highest  shall  overshadow  thee ;  therefore,  also,  that  holy 
progeny  which  shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son 
ot  God ;  and  behold,  also,  thy  cousin  Elisabeth,  she  also  hath 
conceived  a  son  in  her  old  age ;  and  this  is  the  sixth  month 
with  her  who  was  called  barren.  For  with  God  nothing  shall 
be  impossible.” 

In  this  announcement  a  Jewish  betrothed  woman  must  have 
seen  a  future  of  danger  to  her  reputation  and  her  life ;  for 
who  would  believe  a  story  of  which  there  was  no  mortal  wit¬ 
ness  ?  But  Mary  accepted  the  high  destiny  and  the  fearful 
danger  with  an  entire  surrender  of  herself  into  God’s  hands. 
Her  reply  is  not  one  of  exultation,  but  of  submission.  “  Be¬ 
hold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord ;  be  it  unto  me  according  to 
his  word.” 

The  next  step  taken  by  Mary  is  in  accordance  with  the 
calmest  practical  good  sense,  and  displays  an  energy  and  a 
control  over  other  minds  which  must  have  been  uncommon. 
She  resolves  to  visit  her  cousin  Elisabeth  in  the  mountain 
country.  The  place  is  supposed  to  have  been  near  Hebron, 
and  involved  a  journey  of  some  twenty  miles  through  a  rug¬ 
ged  country.  For  a  young  maiden  to  find  means  of  perform¬ 
ing  this  journey,  which  involved  attendance  and  protection, 
without  telling  the  reason  for  which  she  resolved  upon  it,  seems 
to  show  that  Mary  had  that  kind  of  character  which  inspires 
confidence,  and  leads  those  around  her  to  feel  that  a  thing  is 
right  and  proper  because  she  has  determined  it. 

The  scene  of  the  visitation  as  given  in  St.  Luke  shows  the 
height  above  common  thought  and  emotion  on  which  these 
holy  women  moved.  Elisabeth,  filled  with  inspired  ardor,  spoke 
out  with  a  loud  voice  and  said,  “  Blessed  art  thou  among 
women,  and  blessed  is  the  fruit  of  thy  womb.  And  whence 

250 


MARY  THE  MOTHER  OE  JESUS. 

is  this  to  me,  that  the  mother  of  my  Lord  should  come  to 
me  ?  And  blessed  be  she  that  believed :  for  there  shall  be  a 
performance  of  those  things  which  have  been  promised  ot  the 
Lord.”  Then  the  prophetic  tire  fell  upon  Mary,  and  she  broke 
forth  into  the  immortal  psalm  which  the  Church  still  cherishes 
as  the  first  hymn  of  the  new  dispensation. 

“  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord  ; 

My  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour, 

For  he  hatli  regarded  the  low  estate  of  his  handmaid  ; 

For,  behold,  henceforth  all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed  ! 

For  he  that  is  mighty  hath  done  great  things  to  me, 

And  holy  is  his  name, 

And  his  mercy  is  on  them  that  fear  him 
From  generation  to  generation. 

He  hath  showed  strength  with  his  arm  ; 

He  hath  scattered  the  proud  in  the  imagination  of  their  hearts, 

He  hath  put  down  the  mighty  from  their  seats 
And  exalted  them  of  low  degree, 

He  hath  filled  the  hungry  with  good  tilings 
And  the  rich  hath  he  sent  empty  away, 

He  hath  holpen  his  servant  Israel 
In  remembrance  of  his  mercy, 

As  lie  spake  to  our  fathers, 

To  Abraham  and  his  seed  forever.” 

In  these  words  we  see,  as  in  the  song  of  Hannah,  the  ex¬ 
altation  of  a  purely  unselfish  spirit,  whose  personal  experiences 
merere  themselves  in  those  of  universal  humanity.  One  line 
alone  expresses  her  intense  sense  of  the  honor  done  her,  and 
all  the  rest  is  exultation  in  her  God  as  the  helper  of  the  poor, 
the  neglected,  the  despised  and  forgotten,  and  the  Saviour  of 
her  oppressed  country.  No  legend  of  angel  ministrations  or 
myths  of  miracle  can  so  glorify  Mary  in  our  eyes  as  this  sim¬ 
ple  picture  of  her  pure  and  lofty  unselfishness  of  spirit. 

We  are  told  that  this  sacred  visit  lasted  three  months.  A 
mythical  legend  speaks  of  a  large  garden,  pertaining  to  the 
priests’  house,  where  Mary  was  wont  to  walk  for  meditation  and 
prayer,  and  that,  bending  one  day  over  a  flower,  beautiful,  but 
devoid  of  fragrance,  she  touched  it  and  thenceforth  it  became 
endowed  with  a  sweet  perfume.  The  myth  is  a  lovely  allegory 
of  the  best  power  of  a  true  and  noble  Christian  woman. 

251 


WO  MAX  IX  SACRRjD  HISTORY. 


On  returning  to  Nazareth,  Mary  confronted  the  danger  which 
beset  her  situation  with  the  peculiar,  silent  steadfastness  which 
characterized  her.  From  the  brief  narrative  of  Matthew,  which 
mainly  respects  the  feelings  of  Joseph,  we  infer  that  Mary 
made  no  effort  at  self-justification,  but  calmly  resigned  herself 
to  the  vindication  of  God  in  his  own  time  and  way.  As  the 
private  feelings  of  Mary  are  recorded  only  by  Luke,  and  the 
private  experiences  of  Joseph  by  Matthew,  it  is  to  be  supposed 
that  the  narrative  is  derived  from  these  two  sources. 

We  have  no  other  characteristic  incident  of  Mary’s  conduct  ; 
nothing1  that  she  said  or  did  during  the  next  eventful  scenes 
of  her  life.  The  journey  to  Bethlehem,  the  birth  of  Jesus,  the 
visit  of  the  shepherds  and  of  the  magi,  full  of  the  loveliest 
poetic  suggestion,  are  all  silent  shrines  so  far  as  utterance  or 
action  of  hers  is  given  to  us.  That  she  Teas  peculiarly  a  silent 
woman  is  inferred  from  the  only  mention  of  her,  in  particular, 
by  St.  Luke  when  recording  these  wonderful  scenes.  When 
the  shepherds,  sent  by  angelic  visitors,  came  to  Bethlehem,  we 
are  told,  “  And  they  came  with  haste,  and  found  Joseph  and 
Mary,  and  the  babe  lying  in  a  manger ;  and  when  they  had 
seen  it  they  made  known  abroad  the  saying  which  was  told 
them  concerning  this  child.  And  all  that  heard  it  wondered. 
But  Mary  kept  all  these  things  and  pondered  them  in  her  heart." 
She  is  one  of  those  women  who  are  remarkable  for  the  things 
they  do  not  say. 

We  next  find  her  at  Jerusalem,  going  with  her  husband  to 
present  her  first-born  son  in  the  Temple,  and  to  offer  the 
humble  sacrifice  appointed  for  the  poor.  A  modern  English 
painting  represents  her  as  sheltering  in  her  bosom  the  two  in¬ 
nocent  white  doves  destined  to  bloody  death,  emblems  of  the 
fate  of  the  holy  child  whom  she  presented.  Here  the  sacred 
story  gives  an  interesting  incident. 

We  catch  a  glimpse  at  one  of  the  last  of  the  Hebrew  proph¬ 
etesses  in  the  form  of  Anna,  of  whom  the  narrative  says,  “  She 
was  of  great  age,  and  had  lived  with  an  husband  seven  years 
from  her  virginity,  and  she  was  a  widow  of  about  fourscore 
and  four  years,  which  departed  not  from  the  Temple,  but 

252 


MARY  TJIE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 

served  God  with  fasting  and  prayer  day  and  night.”  She 
came  in  and  welcomed  the  holy  child.  We  are  introduced 
also  to  the- last  of  the  prophets.  “And  behold  there  was  a 
man  in  Jerusalem  named  Simeon,  and  the  same  was  just  and 
devout,  waiting  for  the  consolation  of  Israel,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  was  upon  him,  and  it  was  revealed  unto  him  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  that  he  should  not  see  death  before  he  had  seen 
the  Lord’s  Messiah.  And  he  came  by  the  Spirit  into  the  Tem¬ 
ple  ;  and  when  the  parents  brought  in  the  child  Jesus,  to  do 
for  him  according  to  the  custom  of  the  law,  then  took  he  him 
up  in  his  arms  and  blessed  God  and  said  :  — 

“  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace, 

For  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation 

Which  thou  hast  prepared  before  the  face  of  all  people, 

A  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles  and  the  glory  of  thy  people  Israel.” 

And  Joseph  and  his  mother  marveled  at  the  things  which 
were  spoken  of  him.  The  contrast  between  the  helpless  babe 
and  the  magnificence  of  his  promised  destiny  kept  them  in  a 
state  of  constant  astonishment.  And  Simeon  blessed  them, 
and  said  unto  Mary  his  mother,  “  Behold  this  child  is  set  for 
the  fall  and  the  rising  again  of  many  in  Israel,  and  for  a 
sign  that  shall  be  spoken  against.  Yea,  a  sword  shall  pierce 
through  thine  own  soul  also,  that  the  thoughts  of  many  hearts 
may  be  revealed.” 

Tliis  prophecy  must  have  been  a  strange  enigma  to  Mary. 
According  to  the  prediction  of  the  angel,  her  son  was  to  be  a 
triumphant  king,  to  reign  on  the  throne  of  bis  father  David, 
to  restore  the  old  national  prestige,  and  to  make  his  people 
rulers  over  the  whole  earth.  The  great  truth  that  the  king¬ 
dom  was  not  of  this  world,  and  the  dominion  a  moral  victory  ; 
that  i,t  was  to  be  won  through  rejection,  betrayal,  denial,  tor¬ 
ture,  and  shameful  death ;  that  the  Jewish  nation  were  to  be 
finally  uprooted  and  scattered, — all  this  was  as  much  hidden 
from  the  eyes  of  Mary  as  from  those  of  the  whole  nation. 
The  gradual  unveiling  of  this  mystery  was  to  test  every  char¬ 
acter  connected  with  it  by  the  severest  wrench  of  trial.  The 
latent  worldliness  and  pride  of  many,  seemingly  good,  would 

i.r>3 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 


be  disclosed,  and  even  tlie  pure  mother  would  be  pierced  to 
the  very  heart  with  the  anguish  of  disappointed  hopes.  Such 
was  the  prophecy  of  which  the  life  of  Mary  was  a  long  fulfill¬ 
ment.  The  slow  perplexity  of  finding  an  entirely  different  des¬ 
tiny  for  her  son  from  the  brilliant  one  foretold  in  prophetic 
symbols  was  to  increase  from  year  to  year,  till  it  culminated 
at  the  foot  of  the  cross. 

The  next  we  see  of  Mary  is  the  scene  in  the  Temple  where 
she  seeks  her  son.  It  shows  the  social  and  cheerful  nature  of 
the  boy,  and  the  love  in  which  he  was  held,  that  she  should 
have  missed  him  a  whole  day  from  her  side  without  alarm, 
supposing  that  he  was  with  the  other  children  of  the  great 
family  caravans  traveling  festively  homeward  from  Jerusalem. 
Not  finding  him,  she  returns  alarmed  to  Jerusalem,  and,  after 
three  days  of  fruitless  search,  finds  him  sitting  in  the  school 
of  the  doctors  of  the  Temple.  Her  agitation  and  suppressed 
alarm  betray  themselves  in  her  earnest  and  grieved  words : 
“  Son,  why  hast  thou  dealt  thus  with  us  ?  behold  thy  father 
and  I  have  sought  thee  sorrowing.”  The  answer  ot  Jesus  was 
given  with  an  unconscious  artlessness,  as  a  child  of  heaven 
might  speak.  “Why  did  you  seek  me?  Did  you  not  know 
I  would  be  at  my  Father’s  house?”*  This  was  doubtless  one 
of  those  peculiar  outflashings  of  an  inward  light  which  some¬ 
times  break  unconsciously  from  childhood,  and  it  is  said,  “They 
understood  not  the  saying.”  It  was  but  a  gleam  of  the  higher 
nature,  and  it  was  gone  in  a  moment ;  for  it  is  said  immedi¬ 
ately  after  that  he  went  down  with  them  unto  Nazareth,  and 
was  subject  to  them;  but,  it  is  added  significantly,  “his  mother 
kept  all  these  sayings  and  pondered  them  in  her  heart.’  Then 
came  twenty  years  of  obscurity  and  silence,  when  Jesus  lived 
the  plain,  literal  life  of  a  village  mechanic.  “Is  not  this  the 
carpenter,  the  son  of  Mary  ?  ”  they  said  of  him  when  he  ap¬ 
peared  in  the  synagogue  of  his  native  village. 

How  unaccountable  to  Mary  must  have  appeared  that  si¬ 
lence  !  It  was  as  if  Gfod  had  forgotten  his  promises.  The  son 
of  her  cousin  Elisabeth,  too,  grew  up  and  lived  the  life  of  an 

*  This  is  said  by  able  critics  to  be  the  sense  of  the  original. 

254 


MARY  THE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 

anchorite  in  the  desert.  It  appears  from  his  testimony  after¬ 
wards  that  he  kept  up  no  personal  acquaintance  with  Jesus, 
and  “  knew  him  not,”  so  that  a  sign  from  heaven  was  neces¬ 
sary  to  enable  him  to  recognize  the  Messiah.. 

From  the  specimens  of  the  village  gossip  at  the  time  of 
Christ’s  first  public  teaching  in  Nazareth,  it  appears  that  neither 
in  the  mother  of  Christ  nor  in  Christ  himself  had  his  towns¬ 
folk  seen  anything  to  excite  expectation.  In  his  last  prayer 
Jesus  says  to  his  Father,  u  O  righteous  Father,  the  world  hath 
not  known  thee.”  In  like  manner  Nazareth  knew  not  Mary  and 
Jesus.  “  He  was  in  the  world,  and  the  world  was  made  by 
him,  and  the  world  knew  him  not.” 

At  last  comes  the  call  of  John  the  Baptist ;  the  wave  of 
popular  feeling-  rises,  and  Jesus  leaves  his  mother  to  go  to  his 
baptism,  his  great  initiation.  The  descending  Spirit,  the  voice 
from  heaven,  ordain  him  to  his  work,  but  immediately  the 
prophetic  impulse  drives  him  from  the  habitation  of  man,  and 
for  more  than  a  month  he  wanders  in  the  wilderness,  on  the 
borders  of  that  spirit-land  where  he  encountered  the  tempta¬ 
tions  that  were  to  fit  him  for  his  work.  We  shall  see  that 
the  whole  drift  of  these  temptations  was,  that  he  should  use 
his  miraculous  powers  and  gifts  for  personal  ends :  he  should 
create  bread  to  satisfy  the  pangs  of  his  own  hunger,  instead 
of  waiting  on  the  providence  of  God ;  he  should  cast  himself 
from  the  pinnacles  of  the  Temple,  that  he  might  be  upborne 
by  angels  and  so  descend  among  the  assembled  multitude  with 
the  pomp  and  splendor  befitting  his  station ;  instead  of  the 
toilsome  way  of  a  religious  teacher,  laboring  for  success 
through  the  slowly  developing  spiritual  life  of  individuals,  he 
should  seek  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  them, 
and  spread  his  religion  by  their  power.  But,  in  all  the  past 
traditions  of  the  prophetic  office,  the  supernatural  power  was 
always  regarded  as  a  sacred  deposit  never  to  be  used  by  its 
possessor  for  any  private  feeling  or  personal  end.  Elijah  fasted 
forty  days  in  his  wanderings  without  using  this  gift  to  supply 
his  own  wants ;  and  Jesus,  the  greatest  of  the  prophets,  was 
the  most  utterly  and  thoroughly  possessed  with  the  unselfish 

255 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  JUS  TOBY 


spirit  of  the  holy  office,  and  repelled  from  him  with  indigna¬ 
tion  every  suggestion  of  the  tempter. 

When  he  returned  from  his  seclusion  in  the  desert,  we  find 
him  once  more  .in  his  mother’s  society,  and  we  see  them 
united  in  the  episode  of  the  marriage  at  Cana.  His  mother’s 
mind  is,  doubtless,  full  of  the  mysterious  change  that  has 
passed  upon  her  son  and  of  triumph  in  his  high  calling.  She 

knows  that  he  has  received  the  gift  of  miraculous  power, 

though  as  yet  he  has  never  used  it.  It  was  most  human,  and 
most  natural,  and  quite  innocent,  that  after  so  many  years  of 
patient  waiting  she  should  wish  to  see  this  bright  career  of 

miracles  begin.  His  family  also  might  have  felt  some  of  the 

eagerness  of  family  pride  in  the  display  of  his  gifts. 

When,  therefore,  by  an  accident,  the  wedding  festivities  are 
at  a  stand,  Mary  turns  to  her  son  with  the  habit  of  a  mother 
wdio  has  felt  for  years  that  she  owned  all  that  her  son  could 
do,  and  of  a  Jewish  mother  wdio  had  always  commanded  his 
reverence.  She  thinks,  to  herself,  that  he  has  the  power  of 
working  miracles,  and  here  is  an  opportunity  to  display  it. 
She  does  not  directly  ask,  but  there  is  suggestion  in  the  very 
manner  in  which  she  looks  to  him  and  says,  “  They  have  no 
wine.”  Immediately  from  him,  usually  so  tender  and  yielding, 
comes  an  abrupt  repulse,  “Woman,*  what  have  I  to  do  with 
thee  ?  mine  hour  is  not  yet  come.”  What  sacred  vital  spot 
has  she  touched  unaware  with  her  maternal  hand  ?  It  is, 
although  she  knows  it  not,  the  very  one  which  had  been 
touched  before  by  the  Enemy  in  the  wilderness. 

This  sacred,  mysterious,  awful  gift  of  miracles  was  not  his 
to  use  for  any  personal  feeling  or  desire,  not  to  gratify  a 
mother’s  innocent  ambition,  or  to  please  the  family  pride  of 
kindred  ;  and  there  is  the  earnestness  of  a  sense  of  danger  in 
the  manner  in  which  he  throws  off  the  suggestion,  the  same 
abrupt  earnestness  with  which  he  afterwards  rebuked  Peter 
when  he  pleaded  with  him  to  avoid  the  reproaches  and  suffer¬ 
ings  which  lay  in  his  path. 

*  The  address  “  woman  ”  sounds  abrupt  and  harsh,  but  in  the  original  language  it  was  a 
term  of  respect.  Our  Lord,  in  his  dying  moments,  used  the  same  form  to  his  mother,  — 
“  Woman,  behold  thy  son.” 


256 


MARY  TUE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 

The  whole  of  this  story  is  not  told  in  full,  but  it  is  evident 
that  the  understanding  between  Jesus  and  his  mother  was  so 
immediate,  that,  though  he  had  reproved  her  for  making  the 
suggestion,  she  was  still  uncertain  whether  he  might  not  yet 
see  it  consistent  to  perform  the  miracle,  and  so,  at  once,  leav¬ 
ing  it  to  him  in  meek  submission,  she  said  to  the  servants 
standing  by,  “  Whatsoever  he  saith  unto  you  do  it.”  This  tone 
to  the  servants,  assumed  by  Mary,  shows  the  scene  to  have 
occurred  in  the  family  of  a  kinsman,  where  she  felt  herself  in 
the  position  of  directress. 

After  an  interval  of  some  time,  Jesus  commands  the  servants 
to  fill  the  watering-pots  with  water,  and  performs  the  desired 
miracle.  We  cannot  enter  into  the  secret  sanctuary  of  that 
divine  mind,  nor  know  exactly  what  Jesus  meant  by  saying 
“  Mine  hour  is  not  yet  come  ” ;  it  was  a  phrase  of  frequent 
occurrence  with  him  when  asked  to  take  steps  in  his  life. 
Probably  it  was  some  inward  voice  or  call  by  which  he  felt 
the  Divine  will  moving  with  his  own,  and  he  waited  after  the 
suggestion  of  Mary  till  this  became  clear  to  him.  What  he 
might  not  do  from  partial  affection,  he  might  do  at  the  Divine 
motion,  as  sanctioning  that  holy  state  of  marriage  which  the 
Jewish  law  had  done  so  much  to  make  sacred.  The  first 
miracle  of  the  Christian  dispensation  was  wrought  in  honor  of 
the  family  state,  which  the  Mosaic  dispensation  had  done  so 
much  to  establish  and  confirm. 

The  trials  of  Mary  as  a  mother  were  still  further  complicated 
by  the  unbelief  of  her  other  children  in  the  divine  mission  of 
Jesus.  His  brethren  had  the  usual  worldly  view  of  who  and 
what  the  Messiah  was  to  be.  He  was  to  come  as  a  conquer¬ 
ing  king,  with  pomp  of  armies,  and  reign  in  Jerusalem.  This 
silent,  prayerful  brother  of  theirs,  who  has  done  nothing  but 
work  at  his  trade,  wander  in  the  Avilderness  and  pray  and 
preach,  even  though  gifted  with  miraculous  power,  does  not 
seem  in  the  least  to  them  like  a  king  and  conqueror.  He  may 
be  a  prophet,  but  as  the  great  Messiah  they  cannot  belieATe  in 
him.  They  fear,  in  fact,  that  he  is  losing  his  senses  in  wild, 
fanatical  expectation. 

257 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 

We  have  a  scene  given  by  St.  John  where  his  brethren 
urge  him,  if  he  is  the  Messiah  and  has  divine  power,  to  go 
up  to  Jerusalem  and  make  a  show  of  it  at  once.  The  feast 
of  tabernacles  is  at  hand,  and  his  brethren  say  to  him,  “  De¬ 
part  hence  and  go  into  Judaea,  that  thy  disciples  may  see  the 
works  that  thou  doest.  If  thou  do  these  things,  show  thyself 
to  the  world.  For  neither  did  his  brethren  believe  on  him. 
Then  said  Jesus,  My  time  is  not  yet  come;  but  your  time  is 
always  ready.  The  world  cannot  hate  you,  but  me  it  hateth 
because  I  testify  of  it  that  the  works  thereof  are  evil.  Go  ye 
up  to  this  feast.  I  go  not  up  yet,  for  my  time  is  not  yet 
full  come.” 

To  the  practical  worldly  eye,  Jesus  was  wasting  his  time 
and  energies.  If.  he  was  to  set  up  a  kingdom,  why  not  go  to 
Jerusalem,  work  splendid  miracles,  enlist  the  chief-priests  and 
scribes,  rouse  the  national  spirit,  unfurl  the  standard,  and  con¬ 
quer  ?  Instead  of  that  he  begins  his  ministry  by  choosing  two 
or  three  poor  men  as  disciples,  and  going  on  foot  from  village 
to  village  preaching  repentance.  He  is  simply  doing  the  work 
of  a  home  missionary.  True,  there  come  reports  of  splendid 
miracles,  but  they  are  wrought  in  obscure  places  among  very 
poor  people,  and  apparently  with  no  motive  but  the  impulse 
of  compassion  and  love  to  the  suffering.  Then  he  is  exhaust¬ 
ing  himself  in  labors,  he  is  thronged  by  the  crowds  of  the 
poor  and  sorrowful,  till  he  has  no  time  so  much  as  to  eat. 
His  brethren,  taking  the  strong,  coarse,  worldly  view  of  the 
matter,  think  he  is  destroying  himself,  and  that  he  ought  to 
be  taken  home  by  his  friends  with  friendly  violence  till  he 
recover  the  balance  of  his  mind ;  as  it  is  said  by  one  Evange¬ 
list,  “  They  went  out  to  lay  hands  on  him,  for  they  said,  He  is 
beside  himself.”  Thus  the  prophecy  is  fulfilling :  he  is  a  sign 
that  is  spoken  against ;  the  thoughts  of  many  hearts  are  being 
revealed  through  him,  and  the  sword  is  piercing  deeper  and 
deeper  every  day  into  the  heart  of  his  mother.  Her  heart  of 
heart  is  touched,  —  in  this  son  is  her  life  ;  she  is  filled  with 
anxiety,  she  longs  to  go  to  him,  —  they  need  not  lay  hands 
on  him  ;  she  will  speak  to  him,  —  he  who  always  loved  her 

258 


MARY  THE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 

voice,  and  for  so  many  years  has  been  subject  to  her,  will 
surely  come  back  with  her.  In  this  hour  of  her  life  Mary  is 
the  type  of  the  trial  through  which  all  mothers  must  pass  at 
the  time  when  they  are  called  on  to  resign  a  son  to  his  des¬ 
tiny  in  the  world,  and  to  feel  that  he  is  theirs  no  more  ;  that 
henceforth  he  belongs  to  another  life,  other  duties  and  affec¬ 
tions,  than  theirs.  Without  this  experience  of  sorrow  Mary 
would  have  been  less  dear  to  the  heart  of  mortal  woman  and 
mother. 

Jesus,  meanwhile,  is  surrounded  by  an  eager  crowd  to  whom 
he  is  teaching  the  way  to  God.  He  is  in  that  current  of  joy 
above  all  joy  where  he  can  see  the  new  immortal  life  springing 
up  under  his  touch ;  he  feels  in  himself  the  ecstasy  of  that 
spiritual  vigor  which  he  is  awakening  in  all  around  him ;  he 
is  comforting  the  mourner,  opening  the  eyes  of  the  spiritually 
blind,  and  lighting  the  fire  of  heavenly  love  in  cold  and  com¬ 
fortless  hearts.  Love  without  bounds,  the  love  of  the  shepherd 
and  bishop  of  souls,  flows  from  him  to  the  poor  whom  he  is 
enriching.  The  ecstatic  moment  is  interrupted  by  a  message : 
“  Thy  mother  and  thy  brethren  stand  without,  desiring  to  speak 
with  thee.”  With  a  burst  of  heavenly  love  he  spreads  his  arms 
towards  the  souls  whom  he  is  guiding,  and  says,  “  Who  is  my 
mother  and  who  are  my  brethren  ?  My  mother  and  my  brethren 
are  these  that  hear  the  Word  of  God  and  do  it;  for  whosoever 
will  do  the  will  of  my  Father  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother 
and  sister  and  mother.”  As  well  attempt  to  imprison  the  light 
of  the  joyous  sun  in  one  dwelling  as  to  bound  the  infinite 
love  of  Jesus  by  one  family  ! 

There  was  an  undoubted  purpose  in  the  record  of  these 
two  places  where  Jesus  so  positively  declares  that  he  had  risen 
to  a  sphere  with  which  his  maternal  relations  had  nothing  to 
do.  They  were  set  as  a  warning  and  a  protest,  in  advance, 
against  that  idolatry  of  the  woman  and  mother  the  advent  of 
which  he  must  have  foreseen. 

In  the  same  manner  we  learn  that,  while  he  was  teaching, 
a  woman  cried  out  in  enthusiasm,  “  Blessed  be  the  womb  that 
bore  thee,  and  the  paps  that  thou  hast  sucked.”  But  he  an- 

259 


WOMAN  m  SACKED  HIS  TOUT. 

swered,  “Yea,  rather,  blessed  are  they  that  hear  the  Word  of 
God  and  do  it.”  In  the  same  grave  spirit  of  serious  admoni¬ 
tion  he  checked  the  delight  of  his  disciples  when  they  exulted 
in  miraculous  gifts.  “  Lord,  even  the  devils  were  subject  unto 
us.”  “  Rejoice  not  that  the  devils  are  subject  to  you,  but  rather 
rejoice  that  your  names  are  written  in  heaven.” 

Undoubtedly  an  hour  was  found  to  console  and  quiet  the 
fears  of  his  mother  so  far  as  in  the  nature  of  the  case  they 
could  be  consoled.  But  the  radical  difficulty,  with  her  as  with 
his  own  disciples,  lay  in  the  fixed  and  rooted  idea  of  the  tem¬ 
poral  Messianic  kingdom.  There  was  an  awful  depth  of  sorrow 
before  them,  to  which  every  day  was  bringing  them  nearer. 
It  was  pathetic  to  see  how  Jesus  was  moving  daily  among 
friends  that  he  loved  and  to  whom  he  knew  that  his  career 
was  to  be  one  of  the  bitterest  anguish  and  disappointment. 
He  tried  in  the  plainest  words  to  tell  them  the  scenes  of  his 
forthcoming  trial,  rejection,  suffering,  death,  and  resurrection, — 
words  so  plain  that  we  wonder  any  one  could  hear  them  and 
not  understand, — and  yet  it  is  written,  “They  understood  not 
his  saying.  They  questioned  one  with  another  what  the  ris¬ 
ing  from  the  dead  should  mean.”  They  discussed  offices  and 
stations  in  the  new  kingdom,  and  contended  who  should  be 
greatest.  When  the  mother  of  James  and  John  asked  the 
place  of  honor  for  her  sons,  he  looked  at  her  with  a  pathetic 
patience. 

“  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask.  Can  ye  drink  of  the  cup  that 
I  shall  drink  ?  Can  ye  be  baptized  with  my  baptism  ?  They 
said,  We  are  able.”  He  answered,  with  the  scenes  of  the 
cross  in  view,  “Ye  shall,  indeed,  drink  of  the  cup  I  shall 
drink,  and  be  baptized  with  my  baptism ;  but  to  sit  on  my 
right  hand  and  my  left  is  not  mine  to  give.  It  shall  be  given 
to  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  my  Father.” 

We  see  no  more  of  Mary  till  we  meet  her  again  standing 
with  the  beloved  John  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  The  supreme 
hour  is  come ;  the  sword  has  gone  to  the  depths  !  All  that 
she  hoped  is  blasted,  and  all  that  she  feared  is  come !  In  this 
horn’,  when  faith  and  hope  were  both  darkened,  Mary  stood 

260 


MARY  THE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 

by  the  power  of  love.  She  stood  by  the  cross  !  The  words  are 
characteristic  and  wonderful.  We  see  still  the  same  intense, 
outwardly  collected  woman  who  met  the  salutation  of  the  angel 
with  calm  inquiry,  and  accepted  glory  and  danger  with  such 
self-surrender,  —  silent,  firm,  sustained  in  her  anguish  as  in  her 
joy  !  After  •  years  of  waiting  and  hope  deferred,  after  such 
glorious  miracles,  such  mighty  deeds  and  words,  such  evident 
tokens  of  God’s  approval,  she  sees  her  son  forsaken  by  God 
and  man.  To  hers  as  to  no  other  mortal  ears  must  have 
sounded  that  death-cry,  “  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me  ?  ” 

But  through  all,  Mary  stood ;  she  did  not  faint  or  fall,  — 
she  was  resolved  to  drink  of  his  cup  to  the  last  bitter 
dregs.  Though  the  whole  world  turn  against  him,  though 
God  himself  seems  to  forsake  him,  she  will  stand  by  him, 
she  will  love  him,  she  will  adore  him  till  death,  and  after,  and 
forever ! 

The  dying  words  of  Jesus  have  been  collected  and  arranged 
by  the  Church  in  a  rosary,  —  pearls  brought  up  from  the  depths 
of  a  profound  agony,  and  of  precious  value  in  all  sorrow.  Of 
those  seven  last  words  it  is  remarkable  what  a  proportion  were 
words  for  other  than  himself.  The  first  sharp  pang  of  torture 
wrung  from  him  the  prayer,  “Father,  forgive  them;  they  know 
not  what  they  do.”  The  second  word  was  of  pardon  and  com¬ 
fort  to  the  penitent  thief.  The  third  the  commendation  of  his 
mother  to  his  beloved  friend. 

If  any  mortal  creature  might  be  said  to  have  entered  into 
the  sufferings  of  the  great  atonement  with  Jesus,  it  was  his 
mother  in  those  last  hours.  Never  has  sorrow  presented  itself 
in  a  form  so  venerable.  Here  is  a  depth  of  anguish  which  in¬ 
spires  awe  as  well  as  tenderness.  The  magnificent  “  Stabat 
Mater,”  in  which  the  Church  commemorates  Mary’s  agony,  is 
an  outburst  with  which  no  feeling  heart  can  refuse  sympathy. 
We  rejoice  when  again  we  meet  her,  after  the  resurrection, 
in  the  company  of  all  the  faithful,  waiting  to  receive  that 
promised  illumination  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  solved  every 
mystery  and  made  every  doubt  clear. 

261 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

In  all  this  history  we  see  the  picture  of  a  woman  belonging 
to  that  rare  and  beautiful  class  who  approach  the  nearest  to 
our  ideal  ot  angelic  excellence.  We  see  a  woman  in  whom 
the  genius  and  tire  of  the  poet  and  prophetess  is  tempered  by 
a  calm  and  equable  balance  of  the  intellect ;  a  woman  not 
only  to  feel  deeply,  but  to  examine  calmly  and  come  to  just 
results,  and  to  act  with  energy  befitting  every  occasion.  Hers 
are  the  powers  which  might,  in  the  providence  of  God,  have 
had  a  public  mission,  but  they  are  all  concentrated  in  the 
nobler,  yet  secret  mission  of  the  mother.  She  lived  and  acted 
in  her  son,  not  in  herself.  There  seems  to  be  evidence  that 
both  Jesus  and  his  mother  had  that  constitutional  delicacy  and 
refinement  that  made  solitude  and  privacy  peculiarly  dear,  and 
the  hurry  and  bustle  and  inevitable  vulgarities  of  a  public  ca¬ 
reer  a  trial.  Mary  never  seems  to  have  sought  to  present  her¬ 
self  as  a  public  teacher ;  and  in  the  one  instance  when  she 
sought  her  son  in  public,  it  was  from  the  tremulous  anxiety 
of  a  mother’s  affection  rather  than  the  self-assertion  of  a  moth¬ 
er’s  pride.  In  short,  Mary  is  presented  to  us  as  the  mother, 
and  the  mother  alone,  seeking  no  other  sphere.  Like  a  true 
mother  she  passed  out  of  self  into  her  son,  and  the  life  that 
she  lived  was  in  him ;  and  in  this  sacred  self-abnegation  she 
must  forever  remain,  the  one  ideal  type  of  perfect  motherhood. 

This  entire  absence  of  self-seeking  and  self-assertion  is  the 
crowning  perfection  of  Mary’s  character.  The  steadiness,  the 
silent  reticence,  with  which  she  held  herself  subject  to  God’s 
will,  waiting  calmly  on  his  Providence,  never  by  a  hasty  word 
or  an  imprudent  action  marring  the  divine  order  or  seeking  to 
place  self  in  the  foreground,  is  an  example  which  we  may  all 
take  reverently  to  our  own  bosoms. 

We  may  not  adore,  but  we  may  love  her.  She  herself 
would  not  that  we  turn  from  her  Son  to  invoke  her ;  but  we 
may  tenderly  rejoice  in  the  feeling  so  common  in  the  primi¬ 
tive  Church,  that  in  drawing  near  to  Jesus  we  draw  near  to  all 
the  holy  who  were  dear  to  him,  and  so  to  her,  the  most  blessed 
among  women.  We  long  to  know  more  of  this  hidden  life  of 
Mary  on  earth,  but  it  is  a  comfort  to  remember  that  these 

262 


MARY  THE  MOTHER  OF  JESUS. 

splendid  souls  with  whom  the  Bible  makes  us  acquainted  are 
neither  dead  nor  lost.  If  we  “hear  the  Word  of  God  and  do 
it,”  we  may  hope  some  day  to  rise  to  the  world  where  we 
shall  find  them,  and  ask  of  them  all  those  untold  things  which 
our  hearts  yearn  to  know. 

263 


A  CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 


shepherds  went  their  hasty  way, 

Did  found  the  lowly  stable  shed 
lere  the  Virgin-Mother  lay : 

And  now  they  checked  their  eager  tread, 

For  to  the  Babe,  that  at  her  bosom  clung, 

A  mother’s  song  the  Virgin-Mother  sung. 

They  told  her  how  a  glorious  light, 

Streaming  from  a  heavenly  throng, 

Around  them  shone,  suspending  night ; 

While,  sweeter  than  a  mother’s  song, 

Blessed  angels  heralded  the  Saviour’s  birth, 

Glory  to  God  on  high !  and  peace  on  earth. 

She  listened  to  the  tale  divine, 

And  closer  still  the  Babe  she  pressed; 

And  while  she  cried,  The  Babe  is  mine ! 

The  milk  rushed  faster  to  her  breast ; 

Joy  rose  within  her,  like  a  summer’s  morn : 

Peace,  peace  on  earth !  the  Prince  of  Peace  is  born. 

Thou  Mother  of  the  Prince  of  Peace, 

Poor,  simple,  and  of  low  estate  ; 

That  strife  should  vanish,  battle  cease, 

Oh!  why  should  this  thy  soul  elate? 

Sweet  music’s  loudest  note,  the  poet’s  story, 

Didst  thou  ne’er  love  to  hear  of  fame  and  glory? 

And  is  not  War  a  youthful  king, 

A  stately  hero  clad  in  mail  ? 

Beneath  his  footsteps  laurels  spring ; 

Him  earth’s  majestic  monarchs  hail ! 

264 


A  CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 

Their  friend,  their  playmate !  and  his  bold  bright  eye 

Compels  the  maiden’s  love-confessing  sigh. 

“  Tell  this  in  some  more  courtly  scene, 

To  maids  and  youths  in  robes  of  state  ! 

I  am  a  woman  poor  and  mean, 

And  therefore  is  my  soul  elate. 

War  is  a  ruffian,  all  with  guilt  defiled, 

That  from  the  aged  father  tears  his  child ! 

“  A  murderous  fiend,  by  fiends  adored, 

He  kills  the  sire  and  starves  the  son, 

The  husband  kills,  and  from  her  board 
Steals  all  his  widow’s  toil  had  won  ; 

Plunders  God’s  world  of  beauty  ;  rends  away 

All  safety  from  the  night,  all  comfort  from  the  day. 

“  Then  wisely  is  my  soul  elate, 

That  strife  should  vanish,  battle  cease; 

I ’m  poor,  and  of  a  low  estate, 

The  Mother  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  ! 

Joy  rises  in  me,  like  a  summer’s  morn  ; 

Peace,  peace  on  earth  !  the  Prince  of  Peace  is  born !  ” 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge. 

265 


THE  VIRGIN  MARY  TO  THE  CHILD  JESUS. 

“But  see,  the  Virgin  blest 
Hath  laid  her  babe  to  rest.” 

Milton’s  Hymn  on  the  Nativity. 

I. 

LEEP,  sleep,  mine  Holy  One  ! 

My  flesh,  my  Lord  !  —  what  name  ?  I  do  not  know 
A  name  that  seemeth  not  too  high  or  low, 

Too  far  from  me  or  Heaven. 

My  Jesus  !  that  is  best !  that  word  being  given 
By  the  majestic  angel,  whose  command 
Was  softly  as  a  man’s  beseeching  said, 

When  I  and  all  the  earth  appeared  to  stand 
In  the  great  overflow 

Of  light  celestial  from  his  wings  and  head. 

Sleep,  sleep,  my  saving  One ! 

II. 

And  art  Thou  come  for  saving,  baby-browed 
And  speechless  Being,  —  art  Thou  come  for  saving  ? 

The  palm  that  grows  beside  our  door  is  bowed 
By  treadings  of  the  low  wind  from  the  south, 

A  restless  shadow  through  the  chamber  waving : 

Upon  its  bough  a  bird  sings  in  the  sun ; 

But  Thou,  with  that  close  slumber  on  Thy  mouth, 

Dost  seem  of  wind  and  sun  already  weary. 

Art  come  for  saving,  O  my  weary  One  ? 

III. 

Perchance  this  sleep,  that  shutteth  out  the  dreary 
Earth-sounds  and  motions,  opens  on  Thy  soul 
High  dreams  on  fire  with  God ; 

266 


THE  VIRGIN  MARY  TO  THE  CHILD  JESUS. 

High  songs  that  make  the  pathways  where  they  roll 
More  bright  than  stars  do  theirs ;  and  visions  new 
Of  Thine  eternal  nature’s  old  abode. 

Suffer  this  mother’s  kiss, 

Best  thing  that  earthly  is, 

To  glide  the  music  and  the  glory  through, 

Nor  narrow  in  Thy  dream  the  broad  upliftings 
Of  any  seraph  wing  ! 

Thus,  noiseless,  thus.  Sleep,  sleep,  my  dreaming  One  ! 


IV. 

The  slumber  of  His  lips  meseems  to  run 
Through  my  lips  to  mine  heart ;  to  all  its  shiftings 
Of  sensual  life,  bringing  contrariousness 
In  a  great  calm.  I  feel,  I  could  lie  down 
As  Moses  did,  and  die,*  —  and  then  live  most. 

[She  pauses .] 

I  am  ’ware  of  you,  heavenly  Presences, 

That  stand  with  your  peculiar  light  unlost,  — 

Each  forehead  with  a  high  thought  for  a  crown, 
Unsunned  i’  the  sunshine  !  I  am  ’ware.  Ye  throw 
No  shade  against  the  wall  !  How  motionless 
Ye  round  me  with  your  living  statuary, 

While  through  your  whiteness,  in  and  outwardly, 
Continual  thoughts  of  God  appear  to  go, 

Like  light’s  soul  in  itself !  I  bear,  I  bear, 

To  look  upon  the  dropt  lids  of  your  eyes, 

Though  their  external  shining  testifies 
To  that  beatitude  within  which  were 
Enough  to  blast  an  eagle  at  his  sun. 

I  fall  not  on  my  sad  clay  face  before  ye  ; 

I  look  on  His.  I  know 
My  spirit,  which  dilateth  with  the  woe 
Of  His  mortality, 

May  well  contain  your  glory. 

Yea,  drop  your  lids  more  low,  — 

Ye  are  but  fellow- worshipers  with  me  1 
Sleep,  sleep,  my  worshiped  One  l 

*  It  is  a  Jewish  tradition  that  Moses  died  of  the  kisses  of  God’s  lips. 

267 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

v. 

We  sat  among  the  stalls  at  Bethlehem. 

The  dumb  kine,  from  their  fodder  turning  them, 
Softened  their  horned  faces 
To  almost  human  gazes 
Toward  the  newly  born. 

The  simple  shepherds  from  the  star-lit  brooks 
Brought  visionary  looks, 

As  yet  in  their  astonied  hearing  rung 
The  strange,  sweet  angel-tongue. 

The  magi  of  the  East,  in  sandals  worn, 

Knelt  reverent,  sweeping  round, 

With  long  pale  beards,  their  gifts  upon  the  ground,  — 
The  incense,  myrrh,  and  gold, 

These  baby-hands  were  impotent  to  hold. 

So,  let  all  earthlies  and  celestials  wait 
Upon  Thy  royal  state  ! 

Sleep,  sleep,  my  kingly  One  ! 

VI. 

I  am  not  proud,  —  meek  angels,  ye  invest 
New  meeknesses  to  hear  such  utterance  rest 
On  mortal  lips,  —  “I  am  not  proud,”  —  not  proud  ! 
Albeit  in  my  flesh  God  sent  his  Son, 

Albeit  over  Him  my  head  is  bowed, 

As  others  bow  before  Him,  still  mine  heart 
Bows  lower  than  their  knees.  0  centuries, 

That  roll,  in  vision,  your  futurities 
My  future  grave  athwart,  — 

Whose  murmurs  seem  to  reach  me  while  I  keep 
Watch  o’er  this  sleep,  — 

Say  of  me  as  the  Heavenly  said  :  “  Thou  art 
The  blessedest  of  women  !  ”  —  blessedest, 

Not  holiest,  not  noblest,  —  no  high  name, 

Whose  height  misplaced  may  pierce  me  like  a  shame, 
When  I  sit  meek  in  heaven ! 

VII. 

For  me,  —  for  me, 

God  knows  that  I  am  feeble  like  the  rest !  — 

268 


THE  VIRGIN  MARY  TO  THE  CHILD  JESUS. 

I  often  wandered  forth,  more  child  than  maiden, 
Among  the  midnight  hills  of  Galilee, 

Whose  summits  looked  heaven-laden  ; 

Listening  to  silence,  as  it  seemed  to  be 

God’s  voice,  so  soft  yet  strong,  —  so  fain  to  press 

Upon  my  heart,  as  heaven  did  on  the  height, 

And  waken  up  its  shadows  by  a  light, 

And  show  its  vileness  by  a  holiness. 

Then  I  knelt  down,  as  silent  as  the  night, 

Too  self-renounced  for  fears, 

Raising  my  small  face  to  the  boundless  blue 
Whose  stars  did  mix  and  tremble  in  my  tears. 

God  heard  them  falling  after  —  with  his  dew. 

VIII. 

So,  seeing  my  corruption,  can  I  see 
This  Incorruptible  now  born  of  me,  — 

This  fair  new  Innocence,  no  sun  did  chance 
To  shine  on  (for  even  Adam  was  no  child), 

Created  from  my  nature  all  defiled,  — 

This  mystery,  from  out  mine  ignorance,  — 

Nor  feel  the  blindness,  stain,  corruption,  more 
Than  others  do,  or  /  did  heretofore  ?  — 

Can  hands  wherein  such  burden  pure  has  been, 

Not  open  with  the  cry,  “  Unclean,  unclean  !  ” 

More  oft  than  any  else  beneath  the  skies  ? 

Ah  King  !  ah  Christ !  ah  Son  ! 

The  kine,  the  shepherds,  the  abased  wise, 

Did  all  less  lowly  wait 
Than  I,  upon  Thy  state  !  — 

Sleep,  sleep,  my  kingly  One  ! 

IX. 

Art  Thou  a  king,  then  ?  Come,  his  universe, 

Come,  crown  me  Him  a  king ! 

Pluck  rays  from  all  such  stars  as  never  fling 
Their  light  where  fell  a  curse, 

And  make  a  crowning  for  this  kingly  brow  !  — 

What  is  my  word  ?  —  Each  empyreal  star 

269 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

Sits  in  a  sphere  afar 
In  shining  ambuscade  : 

The  child-brow,  crowned  by  none, 

Keeps  its  unchildlike  shade. 

Sleep,  sleep,  my  crownless  One  ! 

X. 

Unchildlike  shade  !  —  no  other  babe  doth  wear 
An  aspect  very  sorrowful,  as  Thou.  — 

No  small  babe-smiles  my  watching  heart  has  seen, 

To  float  like  speech  the  speechless  lips  between ; 

No  dove-like  cooing  in  the  golden  air, 

No  quick,  short  joys  of  leaping  babyhood. 

Alas  !  our  earthly  good, 

In  heaven  thought  evil,  seems  too  good  for  Thee  : 
Yet  sleep,  my  weary  One ! 

XI. 

And  then  the  drear,  sharp  tongue  of  prophecy, 

With  the  dread  sense  of  things  which  shall  be  done, 
Doth  smite  me  inly,  like  a  sword,  —  a  sword  ?  — 
{That  “ smites  the  shepherd!”)  then,  I  think  aloud 
The  words  “  despised,”  —  “  rejected,”  —  every  word 
Recoiling  into  darkness  as  I  view 
The  darling  on  my  knee. 

Bright  angels,  —  move  not !  —  lest  ye  stir  the  cloud 
Betwixt  my  soul  and  His  futurity  ! 

I  must  not  die,  with  mother’s  work  to  do, 

And  could  not  live  —  and  see. 

XII. 

It  is  enough  to  bear 
This  image  still  and  fair,  — 

This  holier  in  sleep 
Than  a  saint  at  prayer: 

This  aspect  of  a  child 

Who  never  sinned  or  smiled,  — 

This  presence  in  an  infant’s  face  : 

270 


THE  VIRGIN  MARY  TO  THE  CHILD  JESUS. 

This  sadness  most  like  love, 

This  love  than  love  more  deep, 

This  weakness  like  omnipotence, 

It  is  so  strong  to  move  ! 

Awful  is  this  watching-place, 

Awful  what  I  see  from  hence,  — 

A  king  without  regalia, 

A  God  without  the  thunder, 

A  child  without  the  heart  for  play ; 

Ay,  a  Creator  rent  asunder 
From  his  first  glory  and  cast  away 
On  His  own  world,  for  me  alone 
To  hold  in  hands  created,  crying  —  Son  ! 

XIII. 

That  tear  fell  not  on  Thee, 

Beloved,  yet  Thou  stirrest  in  Thy  slumber  ! 

Thou,  stirring  not  for  glad  sounds  out  of  number 
Which  through  the  vibratory  palm-trees  run 
From  summer  wind  and  bird, 

So  quickly  hast  Thou  heard 
A  tear  fall  silently  ?  — 

Wak’st  Thou,  0  loving  One  ? 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 

271 


A  FRAGMENT. 


Blessed  among  women  is  thy  lot : 

But  higher  meed  we  yield  thee  not, 

Nor  more  than  woman’s  name. 

Nor  solemn  “Hail”  to  thee  we  pay, 

Nor  prayer  to  thee  for  mercy  pray, 

Nor  hymn  of  glory  raise  ; 

Nor  thine  we  deem  in  God’s  high  throne, 
Nor  thine  the  birthright  of  thy  Son, 

The  Mediator’s  praise. 

Mother  of  Jesus,  parent  dear ! 

If  aught  of  earthly  thou  couldst  hear, 

If  aught  of  human  see ; 

What  pangs  thy  humble  heart  must  wring, 
To  know  thy  Saviour,  Lord,  and  King 
Dishonored  thus  for  thee  ! 

Bishop  Maiit. 


272 


.AIM/.MA8-10  hi  MOW  ll HT 


.  H.IH'I  I 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA. 


A’  ernet-Lecomte,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA. 


w  ‘^E  are  struck,  in  the  history  of  our  Lord,  with  the 
unworldliness  of  his  manner  of  living  his  daily  life 
and  fulfilling  his  great  commission.  It  is  emphat¬ 
ically  true,  in  the  history  of  Jesus,  that  his  ways 
are  not  as  our  ways,  and  his  thoughts  as  our  thoughts.  He 
did  not  choose  the  disciples  of  his  first  ministry  as  worldly 
wisdom  would  have  chosen  them.  Though  men  of  good  and 
honest  hearts,  they  were  neither  the  most  cultured  nor  the 
most  influential  of  his  nation.  We  should  "have  said  that  men 
of  the  standing  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea  or  Nicodemus  were 
preferable,  other  things  being  equal,  to  Peter  the  fisherman 
or  Matthew  the  tax-gatherer;  but  Jesus  thought  otherwise. 

And  furthermore,  he  sometimes  selected  those  apparently 
most  unlikely  to  further  his  euds.  Thus,  when  he  had  a  mis¬ 
sion  of  mercy  in  view  for  Samaria,  he  called  to  the  work  a 
woman ;  not  such  as  we  should  suppose  a  divine  teacher 
would  choose,  —  not  a  pre-eminently  intellectual  or  a  very 
good  woman,  —  but,  on  the  contrary,  one  of  a  careless  life 
and  loose  morals  and  little  culture.  The  history  of  this  per¬ 
son,  of  the  way  in  which  he  sought  her  acquaintance,  ar¬ 
rested  her  attention,  gained  access  to  her  heart,  and  made  of 
her  a  missionary  to  draw  the  attention  of  her  people  to  him, 
is  wonderfully  given  by  St.  John.  We  have  the  image  of  a 
woman — such  as  many  are,  social,  good-humored,  talkative,  and 
utterly  without  any  high  moral  sense  —  approaching  the  well, 
where  she  sees  this  weary  Jew  reclining  to  rest  himself.  He 
introduces  himself  to  her  acquaintance  by  asking  a  favor,  — 
the  readiest  way  to  open  the  heart  of  a  woman  of  that  class. 
She  is  evidently  surprised  that  he  will  speak  to  her,  being  a 
Jew,  and  she  a  daughter  of  a  despised  and  hated  race.  “How 

273 


WOMAN  IX  SAG  BED  HISTORY. 

is  it,”  slie  says,  “that  thou,  a  Jew,  askest  drink  of  me,  a  woman 
ot  ba maria  J esus  now  answers  her  in  that  symbolic  and 

poetic  strain  which  was  familiar  with  him :  “  If  thou  knewest 
the  gift  of  God,  and  who  this  is  that  asketh  drink  of  thee, 
thou  w  ouldst  ask  ot  him,  and  he  would  give  thee  living  water.” 
1  he  v\  oman  sees  in  this  only  the  occasion  for  a  lively  re¬ 
joinder.  “  Sir,  thou  hast  nothing  to  draw  with,  and  the  well 
is  deep ;  from  whence  then  hast  thou  that  living  water  ?  ” 
With  that  same  mysterious  air,  as  if  speaking  unconsciously 
from  out  some  higher  sphere,  he  answers,  “  Whosoever  drink- 
eth  of  this  water  shall  thirst  again ;  but  whosoever  shall  drink 
of  the  water  that  I  shall  give,  shall  never  thirst.  The  water 
that  I  shall  give  shall  be  a  well  in  him  springing  up  to  ever¬ 
lasting  life.” 

Impressed  strangely  by  the  words  of  the  mysterious  stranger, 
she  answers  confusedly,  “  Sir,  give  me  this  water,  that  I  thirst 
not,  neither  come  hither  to  draw.”  There  is  a  feeble  attempt 
at  a  jest  struggling  with  the  awe  which  is  growing  upon  her. 
Jesus  now  touches  the  vital  spot  in  her  life.  “Go,  call  thy 
husband  and  come  hither.”  She  said,  “  I  have  no  husband.” 
He  answers,  “Well  hast  thou  said  I  have  no  husband;  thou 
hast  had  five  husbands,  and  he  thou  now  hast  is  not  thy  hus¬ 
band  ;  in  that  saidst  thou  truly.” 

The  stern,  grave  chastity  of  the  Jew,  his  reverence  for  mar¬ 
riage,  strike  coldly  on  the  light-minded  woman  accustomed  to 
the  easy  tolerance  of  a  low  state  of  society.  She  is  abashed, 
and  hastily  seeks  to  change  the  subject:  “Sir,  I  see  thou  art  a 
prophet  ” ;  and  then  she  introduces  the  controverted  point  of  the 
two  liturgies  and  temples  of  Samaria  and  J erusalem,  —  not  the 
first  nor  the  last  was  she  of  those  who  seek  relief  from  con¬ 
science  by  discussing  doctrinal  dogmas.  Then,  to  our  aston¬ 
ishment,  Jesus  proceeds  to  declare  to  this  woman  of  light  mind 
and  loose  morality  the  sublime  doctrines  of  spiritual  worship, 
to  predict  the  new  era  which  is  dawning  on  the  world:  “Wo¬ 
man,  believe  me,  the  hour  cometli  when  neither  in  this  moun¬ 
tain  nor  yet  in  Jerusalem  shall  ye  worship  the  Father.  The 
hour  cometli  and  now  is  when  the  true  worshiper  shall  wor- 

274 

4r 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA. 

ship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  for  the  Father  seeketh 
such  to  worship  him.  God  is  a  spirit,  and  they  that  worship 
him  must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth.”  Then,  in  a  sort 
of  confused  awe  at  his  earnestness,  the  woman  says,  “  I  know 
that  Messiah  shall  come,  and  when  he  is  come  he  will  tell  us 
all  things.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  I  that  speak  unto  thee  am 
he.” 

At  this  moment  the  disciples  returned.  With  their  national 
prejudices,  it  was  very  astonishing,  as  they  drew  nigh,  to  see 
that  their  master  was  in  close  and  earnest  conversation  with  a 
Samaritan  woman.  Nevertheless,  when  the  higher  and  god¬ 
like  in  Jesus  was  in  a  state  of  incandescence,  the  light  and  fire 
were  such  as  to  awe  them.  They  saw  that  he  was  in  an  ex¬ 
alted  mood,  which  they  dared  not  question.  All  the  infinite 
love  of  the  Saviour,  the  shepherd  of  souls,  was  awaking  within 
him  ;  the  soul  whom  he  has  inspired  with  a  new  and  holy  call¬ 
ing  is  leaving  him  on  a  mission  that  is  to  bring  crowds  to  his 
love.  The  disciples  pray  him  to  eat,  but  he  is  no  longer  hun¬ 
gry,  no  longer  thirsty,  no  longer  weary  ;  he  exults  in  the  gifts 
that  lie  is  ready  to  give,  and  the  hearts  that  are  opening  to 
receive. 

The  disciples  pray  him,  “  Master,  eat.”  He  said,  “  I  have 
meat  to  eat  that  ye  know  not  of.”  They  question  in  an  un¬ 
dertone,  “  Hath  any  one  brought  him  aught  to  eat  ?  ”  He 
answers,  “  My  meat  and  my  drink  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him 
that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his  work.”  Then,  pointing  towards 
the  city,  he  speaks  impassioned  words  of  a  harvest  which  is 
at  hand;  and  they  wonder. 

But  meanwhile  the  woman,  with  the  eagerness  and  brio-lit, 
social  readiness  which  characterize  her,  is  calling  to  her  towns¬ 
men,  “  Come,  see  a  man  that  told  me  all  that  ever  I  did.  Is 
not  this  the  Christ  ?  ” 

What  followed  on  this  ?  A  crowd  press  out  to  see  the  won¬ 
der.  Jesus  is  invited  as  an  honored  guest;  he  spends  two 
days  in  the  city,  and  gathers  a  band  of  disciples. 

After  the  resurrection  of  Jesus,  we  find  further  fruits  of  the 
harvest  sown  by  a  chance  interview  of  Jesus  with  this  woman. 

275 


WOMAN  IX  SACKED  IIIS TOBY. 

In  the  eighth  of  Acts  we  read  of  the  ingathering  of  a  church 
in  a  city  of  Samaria,  where  it  is  said  that  “  the  people,  with 
one  accord,  gave  heed  to  the  things  spoken  by  Philip,  and 
there  was  great  joy  in  that  city.” 

One  thing  in  this  story  impresses  us  strongly,  —  the  power 
which  Jesus  had  to  touch  the  divinest  capabilities  in  the  un- 
likeliest  subjects.  He  struck  at  once  and  directly  for  what  was 
highest  and  noblest  in  souls  where  it  lay  most  hidden.  As 
physician  of  souls  he  appealed  directly  to  the  vital  moral  force, 
and  it  acted  under  his  touch.  He  saw  the  higher  nature  in 
this  woman,  and  as  one  might  draw  a  magnet  over  a  heap 
of  rubbish  and  bring  out  pure  metal,  so  he  from  this  careless, 
light-minded,  good-natured,  unprincipled  creature,  brought  out 
the  suppressed  and  hidden  yearning  for  a  better  and  higher 
life.  She  had  no  prejudices  to  keep,  no  station  to  preserve ; 
she  was  even  to  her  own  low  moral  sense  consciously  a  sin¬ 
ner,  and  she  was  ready  at  the  kind  and  powerful  appeal  to 
leave  all  and  follow  him. 

We  have  no  further  history  of  her.  She  is  living  now  some¬ 
where  ;  but  wherever  she  may  be,  we  may  be  quite  sure  she 
never  has  forgotten  the  conversation  at  the  well  in  Samaria, 
and  the  man  who  “told  her  all  that  ever  she  did.” 

276 


CHRIST  AND  THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA. 


A  Samaritan  Woman. 

HE  sun  is  hot ;  and  the  dry  east-wind  blowing 
Fills  all  the  air  with  dust.  The  birds  are  silent ; 
Even  the  little  fieldfares  in  the  corn 
No  longer  twitter ;  only  the  grasshoppers 
Sing  their  incessant  song  of  sun  and  summer. 

I  wonder  who  those  strangers  were  I  met 
Going  into  the  city  ?  Galileans 
They  seemed  to  me  in  speaking,  when  they  asked 
The  short  way  to  the  market-place.  Perhaps 
They  are  fishermen  from  the  lake  ;  or  travelers, 

Looking  to  find  the  inn.  And  here  is  some  one 
Sitting  beside  the  well ;  another  stranger ; 

A  Galilean  also  by  his  looks. 

What  can  so  many  Jews  be  doing  here 
Together  in  Samaria  ?  Are  they  going 
Up  to  Jerusalem  to  the  Passover? 

Our  Passover  is  better  here  at  Sychem, 

For  here  is  Ebal ;  here  is  Gerizim, 

The  mountain  where  our  father  Abraham 
Went  up  to  offer  Isaac  ;  here  the  tomb 
Of  Joseph,  —  for  they  brought  his  bones  from  Egypt 
And  buried  them  in  this  land,  and  it  is  holy. 

Ciiristus. 

Give  me  to  drink. 

Samaritan  Woman. 

How  can  it  be  that  thou, 

Being  a  Jew,  askest  to  drink  of  me 
Which  am  a  woman  of  Samaria  ? 

You  Jews  despise  us  ;  have  no  dealings  with  us  ; 

277 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  RED  HISTORY. 

Make  us  a  byword ;  call  us  in  derision 
The  silly  folk  of  Sychar.  Sir,  how  is  it 
Thou  askest  chink  of  me  ? 

Christus. 

If  thou  liadst  known 

The  gift  of  God,  and  who  it  is  that  sayeth 

Give  me  to  drink,  thou  Avouldst  have  asked  of  him  ; 

He  would  have  given  thee  the  living  water. 

Samaritan  Woman. 

Sir,  thou  hast  naught  to  draw  with,  and  the  well 
Is  deep  !  Whence  hast  thou  living  water  ? 

Say,  art  thou  greater  than  our  father  Jacob, 

Which  gave  this  well  to  us,  and  drank  thereof 
Himself,  and  all  his  children  and  his  cattle  ? 

Christus. 

Ah,  whosoever  drinketh  of  this  water 
Shall  thirst  again  ;  but  whosoever  drinketh 
The  water  I  shall  give  him  shall  not  thirst 
Forevermore,  for  it  shall  be  within  him 
A  well  of  living  water,  springing  up 
Into  life  everlasting. 

Samaritan  Woman. 

Every  day 

I  must  go  to  and  fro,  in  heat  and  cold, 

And  I  am  weary.  Give  me  of  this  water, 

That  I  may  thirst  not,  nor  come  here  to  draw. 

Christus. 

Go  call  thy  husband,  woman,  and  come  hither. 

Samaritan  Woman. 

I  have  no  husband,  Sir. 

278 


CUEIST  AND  THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA. 

Christus. 

Thou  hast  well  said 

I  have  no  husband.  Thou  hast  had  five  husbands ; 
And  he  whom  now  thou  hast  is  not  thy  husband. 

Samaritan  Woman. 

Surely  thou  art  a  Prophet,  for  thou  readest 
The  hidden  things  of  life  !  Our  fathers  worshiped 
Upon  this  mountain  Gerizim  ;  and  ye  say 
The  only  place  in  which  men  ought  to  worship 
Is  at  Jerusalem. 

Christus. 

Believe  me,  woman, 

The  hour  is  coming,  when  ye  neither  shall 
Upon  this  mount,  nor  at  Jerusalem, 

Worship  the  Father ;  for  the  hour  is  coming, 

And  is  now  come,  when  the  true  worshipers 
Shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth  ! 

The  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  him. 

God  is  a  spirit ;  and  they  that  worship  him 
Must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth. 

Samaritan  Woman. 

Master,  I  know  that  the  Messiah  cometh, 

Which  is  called  Christ ;  and  he  will  tell  us  all  things. 

Christus. 

I  that  speak  unto  thee  am  he ! 

• 

The  Disciples,  returning. 

Behold, 

The  Master  sitting  by  the  well,  and  talking 
With  a  Samaritan  woman  !  With  a  woman 
Of  Sychar,  the  silly  people,  always  boasting 
Of  their  Mount  Ebal,  and  Mount  Gerizim, 

Their  Everlasting  Mountain,  which  they  think 

279 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 

Higher  and  holier  than  our  Mount  Moriah  ! 

Why,  once  upon  the  Feast  of  the  New  Moon, 

When  our  great  Sanhedrim  of  Jerusalem 
Had  all  its  watch-fires  kindled  on  the  hills 
To  warn  the  distant  villages,  these  people 
Lighted  up  others  to  mislead  the  Jews, 

And  make  a  mockery  of  their  festival ! 

See,  she  has  left  the  Master ;  and  is  running 
Back  to  the  city  ! 

Samaritan  Woman. 

O,  come  see  a  man 

Who  hath  told  me  all  things  that  I  ever  did  ! 

Say,  is  not  this  the  Christ  ? 

The  Disciples. 

Lo,  Master,  here 

Is  food,  that  we  have  brought  thee  from  the  city. 

We  pray  thee  eat  it. 

Christus. 

I  have  food  to  eat 

Ye  know  not  of. 

The  Disciples,  to  each  other. 

.  Hath  any  man  been  here, 

And  brought  him  aught  to  eat,  while  we  were  gone? 

Christus. 

The  food  I  speak  of  is  to  do  the  will 
Of  Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his  work. 

Do  ye  not  say,  Lo  !  there  are  yet  four  months 
And  cometh  harvest  ?  I  say  unto  you, 

Lift  up  your  eyes,  and  look  upon  the  fields, 

For  they  are  white  already  unto  harvest ! 

From  the  “Divine  Tkagedy,”  by  H.  IV.  Longfcllotiv. 
280 


THE  WOMAN  OF  SAMARIA. 


the  hot  noon,  for  water  cool, 

She  strayed  in  listless  mood : 

VThen  back  she  ran,  her  pitcher  full 
Forgot  behind  her  stood. 

Like  one  who  followed  straying  sheep, 

A  weary  man  she  saw, 

Who  sat  upon  the  well  so  deep, 

And  nothing  had  to  draw. 

“  Give  me  to  drink,”  he  said.  Her  hand 
Was  ready  with  reply ; 

From  out  the  old  well  of  the  land 
She  drew  him  plenteously. 

He  spake  as  never  man  before  ; 

She  stands  with  open  ears ; 

He  spake  of  holy  days  in  store, 

Laid  bare  the  vanished  years. 

She  cannot  still  her  throbbing  heart ; 

She  hurries  to  the  town, 

And  cries  aloud  in  street  and  mart, 

“  The  Lord  is  here  :  come  down.” 

Her  life  before  was  strange  and  sad, 

Its  tale  a  dreary  sound  : 

Ah  !  let  it  go,  —  or  good  or  bad, 

She  has  the  Master  found. 

Rev.  George.  MacDonald. 

2SI 


HYMN. 


pSSpf’ 


IKE  her  who  on  Samaria’s  ground, 
Beneath  a  sultry  sky, 

Oft  at  the  Patriarch’s  well  was  found, 
Her  weary  toil  to  ply : 


Thus  we  our  measured  span  employ 
In  labors,  long  and  vain  ; 

We  try  each  boasted  fount  of  joy, 

And  drink  and  thirst  again. 

0  Thou,  who  with  a  pitying  heart, 

Didst  hear  her  earnest  tale, 

To  us  that  living  stream  impart, 

Whose  waters  never  fail. 

So  shall  our  broken  cisterns  here, 

By  fickle  dew-drops  fed, 

No  more  awake  the  bitter  tear, 

Or  bow  the  sorrowing  head. 

A  holy  fountain  in  the  soul, 

Eternally  shall  rise, 

Supplied  by  those  pure  streams  that  roll 
Where  pleasure  never  dies. 

282 


JACOB’S  WELL. 


after  Jacob  parted  from  his  brother, 

3  daughters  lingered  round  this  well,  new-made ; 
!,  seventeen  centuries  after,  came  another, 

And  talked  with  Jesus,  wondering  and  afraid; 

Here,  other  centuries  past,  the  emperor’s  mother 
Sheltered  its  waters  with  a  temple’s  shade ; 

Here,  ’mid  the  falling  fragments,  as  of  old, 

The  girl  her  pitcher  dips  within  its  waters  cold. 


And  Jacob’s  race  grew  strong  for  many  an  hour, 
Then  torn  beneath  the  Roman  eagle  lay ; 

The  Roman’s  vast  and  earth-controlling  power 
Has  crumbled  like  these  shafts  and  stones  away  ; 
But  still  the  waters,  fed  by  dew  and  shower, 

Come  up,  as  ever,  to  the  light  of  day, 

And  still  the  maid  bends  downward  with  her  urn, 
Well  pleased  to  see  its  glass  her  lovely  face  return. 


And  those  few  words  of  truth,  first  uttered  here, 

Have  sunk  into  the  human  soul  and  heart ; 

A  spiritual  faith  dawns  bright  and  clear, 

Dark  creeds  and  ancient  mysteries  depart ; 

The  hour  for  God’s  true  worshipers  draws  near; 

Then  mourn  not  o’er  the  wrecks  of  earthly  art : 

Kingdoms  may  fall,  and  human  works  decay, 

Nature  moves  on  unchanged,  —  Truths  never  pass  away. 

James  Freeman  Clarke. 


283 


' 

* 


# 


THE  WIDOW  OF  NAIN. 


Goodall,  Pinx. 


Jehknne,  Lith. 


THE  WIDOW  OF  NAIN. 


INHERE  are  some  incidents  in  the  life  of  our  Lord  that 
come  to  us  with  all  the  force  and  power  of  sympa¬ 
thetic  revelations  of  God’s  character. 

The  unpitying,  unvarying  sternness  of  natural  law 
—  cutting,  as  it  constantly  does,  across  the  most  exquisite  nerves 
of  suffering  —  presents  to  us  a  chilling  and  repulsive  idea  of  the 
Being  who  ordained  and  who  upholds  law. 

Either  he  is  cruel  and  means  to  give  pain,  or  he  is  insensible 
and  does  not  care  for  our  suffering,  or  he  is  so  far  off  and  so 
high  up  that  he  neither  sees  nor  feels,  —  these  are  all  the  con¬ 
clusions  that  the  facts  of  human  life  can  lead  us  to  in  regard 


to  a  Deity,  if  indeed  there  be  one. 

But  the  Bible  declares  it  was  the  main  object  and  purpose 
of  Christ’s  life  on  earth  to  manifest  to  us  the  interior  and  hidden 
heart  of  God.  He  was  to  show  us  God  in  a  human  form,  under 
human  conditions,  with  human  sympathies ;  and  in  this  manifes¬ 
tation  we  see  a  constant  declaration  that  it  is  the  desire  and 
wish  and  intention  of  God  to  console  men  under  their  sorrows. 
The  miracles  of  Jesus  were  all  so  many  testimonies  that  God 
pities  the  sufferings  of  man,  and  desires  and  intends  to  relieve 
them.  They  point  forward  to  a  stage  of  development  when 
there  shall  be  no  more  pain,  nor  sorrow,  nor  sickness,  neither 
any  more  death,  but  all  the  former  things  shall  be  passed  away. 
They  point  to  a  time  when  the  tabernacle  of  God  shall  be  with 
men,  and  God  shall  dwell  with  them,  and  He  shall  wipe  away 
all  tears  from  their  eyes. 

The  most  dreadful,  the  most  hopeless,  the  most  inexorable 
sorrow  is  that  of  death.  Nothing  is  so  final,  so  without  hope 
of  retrieval,  so  utterly  full  of  despair.  Yet  it  was  even  from 

285 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  IIISTOBY 


tliis  death  itself  that  Jesus  at  different  times  snatched  the  victim, 
and  gave  him  back  to  the  embraces  of  friends. 

The  instances  of  the  raising  of  the  dead  by  our  Lord  are 
three  in  number,  and  in  each  case  the  subject  appears  to  have 
been  a  young  person.  A  little  girl  in  the  very  dawn  of  youth 
was  brought  back  to  the  embraces  of  her  father  and  mother; 
a  brother,  in  the  case  of  Lazarus,  was  restored  to  two  devoted 
sisters;  and  the  only  son  of  a  widow  was  given  back  to  his 
mother. 

These  actions  have  more  than  the  force  of  accidental  move¬ 
ments  of  sympathy.  They  are  to  be  accepted  as  protestations 
from  the  innermost  heart  of  the  great,  silent  Ruler  of  Nature, 
that  the  anguish  and  bitterness  caused  by  death  among  his 
creatures  are  not  indifferent  to  him,  that  it  is  in  his  heart 
finally  to  put  an  end  to  all  this  sorrow ;  and  this  divine  rep¬ 
resentative  Man  Christ  Jesus  raises  and  restores  the  dead,  as 
a  promise  of  that  good  time  coming  when  death  shall  cease 
and  all  tears  shall  be  wiped  away. 

In  the  first  two  instances  where  our  Lord  is  represented  as 
raising  the  dead,  Ave  have  no  record  of  anything  that  he  said 
or  did  explanatory  of  the  action.  When  he  raised  the  widow’s 
son  at  Nain  and  the  ruler’s  daughter  at  Capernaum,  he  said 
nothing  of  the  philosophy  of  death  or  life,  and  gave  no  prom¬ 
ise  of  the  future.  The  selecting  a  widow  with  an  only  son  as 
one  of  the  favored  instances  of  mercy  was  in  accordance  with 
the  whole  spirit  of  Jewish  institutions.  By  the  Mosaic  law 
the  widow  Avas  made  a  sacred  person.  All  through  the  Old 
Testament,  both  in  the  Iuav  and  the  prophets,  any  act  of  op¬ 
pression  against  a  AvidoAv  is  rebuked  as  the  vilest  of  sins.  A 
special  prohibition  forbade  the  taking  of  a  widow’s  garment  as 
a  pledge,  and  the  spirit  of  this  applied  to  other  necessities  of 
life;  in  multiplied  passages  the  AvidoAv  Avas  recommended  to  the 
special  care  and  consideration  of  the  community. 

The  case  of  the  widow  of  Nain  Avas  one  of  the  deepest  sor- 
rOAv.  She  had  lost  both  her  husband,  and  that  only  son,  who 
Avas  to  be  in  his  father’s  place  the  staff  and  stay  of  her  old 
age ;  it  Avas  soitoav  in  its  bitterest  and  most  hopeless  form. 

286 


TIIE  WIDOW  OF  NA IN. 

The  record  of  the  event  is  given  with  the  unconscious  pathos 
which  everywhere  distinguishes  the  sacred  narrative:  “And  it 
came  to  pass  that  the  day  after  he  went  into  a  city  called 
Nain ;  and  many  of  his  disciples  went  with  him,  and  much 
people.  Now  when  he  came  nigh  to  the  gate  of  the  city,  be¬ 
hold,  there  was  a  dead  man  carried  out,  the  only  son  of  his 
mother,  and  she  was  a  widow;  and  much  people  of  the  city 
was  with  her.  And  when  the  Lord  saw  her,  he  had  com¬ 
passion  on  her,  and  said,  Weep  not.  And  he  came  and  touched 
the  bier;  and  they  that  bare  him  stood  still.  And  he  said 
unto  him,  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  Arise.  And  lie  that 
Avas  dead  sat  up,  and  began  to  speak;  and  he  delivered  him 
unto  his  mother.” 

We  often  hear  of  the  soitoavs  of  Jesus;  but  beyond  all  others 
avIio  have  lived,  he  had  his  hours  of  joy,  and  this  Avas  doubtless 
one.  To  go  out  amid  human  suffering  Avith  the  right  and  poAver 
to  relieve  it,  to  give  beauty  for  ashes  and  a  garment  of  praise 
for  the  spirit  of  heaviness,  —  this  Avas  the  joy  of  Jesus. 

Poor  in  earth’s  treasures,  without  a  home  or  place  to  lay  his 
head,  he  had  in  his  hands  inestimable  riches,  which  could  not 
be  bought,  but  which  he  freely  gave  to  all.  He  was  as  one 
poor,  yet  making  many  rich ;  as  having  nothing,  yet  possess¬ 
ing  all  things. 

The  silent,  self-possessed  grandeur  of  tills  noble  miracle  im¬ 
presses  us,  it  Avas  so  evidently  a  moA^ement,  pure  and  simple, 
of  that  depth  of  Divine  compassion  which  is  always  invisibly 
Avaiting  and  longing  for  the  hour  of  consolation  to  come.  The 
only  sons  of  AvidoAvs  are  not  dead,  —  they  are  gone  into  that 
imdsible  world  which  is  said  to  be  the  especial  dominion  of 
Him  that  liveth  and  Avas  dead,  of  him  that  is  alive  forever- 
more ;  and  as  he  gave  this  one  again  to  his  mother,  so  in  that 
future  life  he  aa  ill  lay  his  healing  hand  on  broken  ties,  and 
reunite  those  whom  deatli  lias  parted  here,  for  he  is  the  resur¬ 
rection  and  the  life,  and  avIioso  believeth  in  him  shall  never 
die  ! 

287 


THE  WIDOW  OF  NAIN. 

dust  on  their  sandals  lay  heavy  and  white, 

:ir  garments  were  damp  with  the  tears  of  the  night, 
:ir  hot  feet  aweary  and  throbbing  with  pain, 

As  they  entered  the  gates  of  the  city  of  Naiu. 

But  lo  !  on  the  pathway  a  sorrowing  throng 
Pressed,  mournfully  chanting  the  funeral-song, 

And  like  a  sad  monotone,  ceaseless  and  slow, 

The  voice  of  a  woman  came  laden  with  woe. 

What  need,  stricken  mothers,  to  tell  how  she  wept  ? 

Ye  read  by  the  vigils  that  sorrow  hath  kept, 

Ye  know  by  the  travail  of  anguish  and  pain, 

The  desolate  grief  of  the  widow  of  Nain. 

As  he  who  was  first  of  the  wayfaring  men 
Advanced,  the  mute  burden  was  lowered,  and  then, 

As  he  touched  the  white  grave-cloths  that  covered  the  bier, 

The  bearers  shrank  back,  but  the  mother  drew  near. 

Her  snow-sprinkled  tresses  had  loosened  their  strands, 

Great  tears  fell  unchecked  on  the  tightly  clasped  hands ; 

But  hushed  the  wild  sobbing,  and  stifled  her  cries, 

As  Jesus  of  Nazareth  lifted  his  eyes. 

Eyes  wet  with  compassion,  as  softly  they  fell,  — 

Eyes  potent  to  soften  grief’s  tremulous  swell, 

As  sweetly  and  tenderly,  “  Weep  not,”  he  said, 

And  turned  to  the  passionless  face  of  the  dead. 

White,  white  gleamed  his  forehead  ;  loose  rippled  the  hair, 
Bronze-tinted,  o’er  temples  transparently  fair ; 

And  a  glory  stole  up  from  the  earth  to  the  skies, 

As  he  called  to  the  voiceless  one,  “  Young  man,  arise  !  ” 

288 


THE  WIDOW  OF  NAIF. 

The  hard,  rigid  outlines  grew  fervid  with  breath, 

The  dull  eyes  unclosed  from  the  midnight  of  death  ; 

Weep,  weep,  happy  mother,  and  fall  at  his  feet : 

Life’s  pale,  blighted  promise  grown  hopeful  and  sweet. 

The  morning  had  passed,  and  the  midday  heats  burned  ; 

Once  more  to  the  pathway  the  wayfarers  turned. 

The  conqueror  of  kings  had  been  conquered  again  ; 

There  was  joy  in  the  house  of  the  widow  of  Nain. 

Catholic  World. 
289 


THE  WIDOW’S  SON. 

Roman  sentinel  stood  helmed  and  tall 
side  the  gate  of  Nain.  The  busy  tread 
comers  to  the  city  mart  was  done, 

For  it  was  almost  noon,  and  a  dead  heat 
Quivered  upon  the  fine  and  sleeping  dust, 

And  the  cold  snake  crept  panting  from  the  wall, 
And  basked  his  scaly  circles  in  the  sun. 

Upon  his  spear  the  soldier  leaned,  and  kept 
His  idle  watch,  and,  as  his  drowsy  dream 
Was  broken  by  the  solitary  foot 
Of  some  poor  mendicant,  he  raised  his  head 
To  curse  him  for  a  tributary  Jew, 

And  slumberously  dozed  on. 

’T  was  now  high  noon. 
The  dull,  low  murmur  of  a  funeral 
Went  through  the  city, — the  sad  sound  of  feet 
Unmixed  with  voices,  —  and  the  sentinel 
Shook  off  his  slumber,  and  gazed  earnestly 
Up  the  wide  streets  along  whose  paved  way 
The  silent  throng  crept  slowly.  They  came  on, 
Bearing  a  body  heavily  on  its  bier, 

And  by  the  crowd  that  in  the  burning  sun 
Walked  with  forgetfvd  sadness,  ’twas  of  one  . 
Mourned  with  uncommon  sorrow.  The  broad  gate 
Swung  on  its  hinges,  and  the  Roman  bent 
His  spear-point  downwards  as  the  bearers  past 
Bending  beneath  their  burden.  There  was  one,  - — 
Only  one  mourner.  Close  behind  the  bier, 

Crumpling  the  pall  up  in  her  withered  hands, 
Followed  an  aged  woman.  Her  short  steps 
Faltered  with  weakness,  and  a  broken  moan 
Fell  from  her  lips,  thickened  convulsively 

290 


THE  WIDOW'S  SON. 

As  her  heart  bled  afresh.  The  pitying  crowd 
Followed  apart,  but  no  one  spoke  to  her. 

She  had  no  kinsmen.  She  had  lived  alone,  — 

A  widow  with  one  son.  He  was  her  all,  — 

The  only  tie  she  had  in  the  wide  world,  — 

And  he  was  dead.  They  could  not  comfort  her. 

Jesus  drew  near  to  Nain  as  from  the  gate 
The  funeral  came  forth.  His  lips  were  pale 
With  the  noon’s  sultry  heat.  The  beaded  sweat 
Stood  thickly  on  his  brow,  and  on  the  worn 
And  simple  latchets  of  his  sandals  lay, 

Thick,  the  white  dust  of  travel.  He  had  come 
Since  sunrise  from  Capernaum,  staying  not 
To  wet  his  lips  by  green  Bethsaida’s  pool, 

Nor  wash  his  feet  in  Kishon’s  silver  springs, 

Nor  turn  him  southward  upon  Tabor’s  side 
To  catch  Gilboa’s  light  and  spicy  breeze. 

Genesareth  stood  cool  upon  the  East, 

Fast  by  the  sea  of  Galilee,  and  there 
The  weary  traveler  might  bide  till  eve ; 

And  on  the  alders  of  Bethulia’s  plains 
The  grapes  of  Palestine  hung  ripe  and  wild ; 

Yet  turned  he  not  aside,  but,  gazing  on 
From  every  swelling  mount,  he  saw  afar 
Amid  the  hills  the  humble  spires  of  Nain, 

The  place  of  his  next  errand,  and  the  path 
Touched  not  Bethulia,  and  a  league  away 
Upon  the  East  lay  pleasant  Galilee. 

Forth  from  the  city-gate  the  pitying  crowd 
Followed  the  stricken  mourner.  They  came  near 
The  place  of  burial,  and,  with  straining  hands, 
Closer  upon  her  breast  she  clasped  the  pall, 

And  with  a  gasping  sob,  quick  as  a  child’s, 

And  an  inquiring  wildness  flashing  through 
The  thin  gray  lashes  of  her  fevered  eyes, 

She  came  where  Jesus  stood  beside  the  way. 

He  looked  upon  her,  and  his  heart  was  moved. 
“Weep  not!”  he  said  ;  and  as  they  stayed  the  bier, 
And  at  his  bidding  laid  it  at  his  feet, 

291 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 

He  gently  drew  the  pall  from  out  her  grasp 
And  laid  it  back  in  silence  from  the  dead. 

With  troubled  wonder  the  mute  throng  drew  near, 

And  gazed  on  his  calm  looks.  A  minute’s  space 
He  stood  and  prayed.  Then,  taking  the  cold  hand, 

He  said,  “  Arise  !  ”  And  instantly  the  breast 
Heaved  in  its  cerements,  and  a  sudden  flush 
Ran  through  the  lines  of  the  divided  lips, 

And  with  a  murmur  of  his  mother’s  name, 

He  trembled  and  sat  upright  in  his  shroud. 

And,  while  the  mourner  hung  upon  his  neck, 

Jesus  went  calmly  on  his  way  to  Nain. 

Nathaniel  P.  Willis. 

292 


RESURRECTION. 

“And  when  the  Lord  saw  her,  he  had  compassion  on  her,  and  said  unto  her,  Weep  not. 
And  he  came  and  touched  the  bier  ;  and  they  that  bare  him  stood  still.  And  he  said, 
Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  Arise.”  —  Luke  vii.  13,  14. 

>  says  the  wan  autumnal  sun 
Beams  with  too  faint  a  smile 

>  light  up  nature’s  face  again, 

And,  though  the  year  be  on  the  wane, 

With  thoughts  of  spring  the  heart  beguile  ? 

Waft  him,  thou  soft  September  breeze, 

And  gently  lay  him  down 
Within  some  circling  woodland  wall, 

Where  bright  leaves,  reddening  as  they  fall, 

Wave  gayly  o’er  the  waters  brown. 

And  let  some  grateful  arch  be  there 
With  wreathed  mullions  proud, 

With  burnished  ivy  for  its  screen, 

And  moss,  that  glows  as  fresh  and  green 
As  though  beneath  an  April  cloud. 

Who  says  the  widow’s  heart  must  break, 

The  childless  mother  sink  ?  — 

A  kinder,  truer  voice  I  hear, 

Which,  even  beside  that  mournful  bier 

Whence  parents’  eyes  would  hopeless  shrink, 

Bids  weep  no  more,  —  0  heart  bereft, 

How  strange  to  thee  that  sound  ! 

A  widow  o’er  her  only  son, 

Feeling  more  bitterly  alone 

For  friends  that  press  officious  round. 

293 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

Yet  is  the  voice  of  comfort  heard, 

For  Christ  has  touched  the  bier,  — 

The  bearers  wait  with  wondering  eye, 

The  swelling  bosom  dares  not  sigh, 

But  all  is  still,  ’twixt  hope  and  fear. 

Even  such  an  awful  soothing  calm 
We  sometimes  see  alight 
On  Christian  mourners,  while  they  wait 
In  silence  by  some  churchyard  gate 
Their  summons  to  the  holy  rite. 

And  such  the  tones  of  love  which  break 
The  stillness  of  that  hour, 

Quelling  th’  embittered  spirit’s  strife,  — 

“  The  Resurrection  and  the  Life 

Am  I ;  believe,  and  die  no  more.” 

Unchanged  that  voice,  —  and  though  not  yet 
The  dead  sit  up  and  speak, 

Answering  its  call ;  we  gladlier  rest 
Our  darlings  on  earth’s  quiet  breast, 

And  our  hearts  feel  they  must  not  break. 

Far  better  they  should  sleep  awhile 
Within  the  church’s  shade, 

Nor  wake  until  new  heaven,  new  earth. 

Meet  for  their  young  immortal  birth, 

For  their  abiding-place  be  made, 

Than  wander  back  to  life,  and  lean 
On  our  frail  love  once  more. 

’Tis  sweet,  as  year  by  year  we  lose 
Friends  out  of  sight,  in  faith  to  muse 
How  grows  in  Paradise  our  store. 

Then  pass,  ye  mourners,  cheerly  on 
Through  prayer  unto  the  tomb, 

Still,  as  ye  watch  life’s  falling  leaf, 

Gathering  from  every  loss  and  grief 

Hope  of  new  spring  and  endless  home. 

294 


RES  UR  RE  C  TI  ON. 

Then  cheerly  to  your  work  again 
With  hearts  new-braced  and  set 
To  run,  untired,  love’s  blessed  race, 

As  meet  for  those  who  face  to  face 

Over  the  grave  their  Lord  have  met. 

295 


John  Kcblc. 


THE  RAISING  OF  THE  WIDOW’S  SON. 


EEP  not,  0  mother,  sounds  of  lamentation ; 
Weep  not,  0  widow,  weep  not  hopelessly ! 
Strong  is  His  arm,  the  bringer  of  salvation  ! 
Strong  is  the  word  of  God  to  succor  thee! 


Bear  forth  the  cold  corpse,  slowly,  slowly  bear  him ; 

Hide  his  pale  features  with  the  sable  pall; 

Chide  not  the  sad  one  wildly  weeping  o’er  him, 
Widowed  and  childless,  she  has  lost  her  all. 


Why  pause  the  mourners,  who  forbids  our  weeping? 

Who  the  dark  pomp  of  sorrow  has  delayed? 

“  Set  down  the  bier ;  —  he  is  not  dead,  but  sleeping : 
Young  man,  arise  !  ”  He  spake,  and  was  obeyed ! 


Change  then,  0  sad  one,  grief  to  exultation ! 

Worship  and  fall  before  Messiah’s  knee. 

Strong  was  His  arm,  the  bringer  of  salvation ! 

Strong  was  the  word  of  God  to  succor  thee ! 

Reginald  Hcber. 
296 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 


Batoni,  Flux. 


Jehf.nne,  Lith 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 

NE  of  the  most  splendid  ornaments  of  the  Dresden 
Gallery  is  the  Magdalen  of  Batoni.  The  subject  has 
been  a  favorite  among  artists,  and  one  sees,  in  a 
tour  of  the  various  collections  of  Europe,  Magdalens 
by  every  painter,  in  every  conceivable  style.  By  far  the 
greater  part  of  them  deal  only  with  the  material  aspects  of 
the  subject.  The  exquisite  pathos  of  the  story,  the  passionate 
anguish  and  despair  of  the  penitent,  the  refinement  and  dignity 
of  Divine  tenderness,  are  often  lost  sight  of  in  mere  physical 
accessories.  Many  artists  seem  to  have  seen  in  the  subject 
only  a  chance  to  paint  a  voluptuously  beautiful  woman  in 
tears.  Titian  appears  to  have  felt  in  this  wonderful  story 
nothing  but  the  beauty  of  the  woman’s  hair,  and  gives  us  a 
picture  of  the  most  glorious  tresses  that  heart  could  conceive, 
perfectly  veiling  and  clothing  a  very  common-place  weeping 
woman.  Correggio  made  of  the  study  only  a  charming  effect 
of  light  and  shade  and  color.  A  fat,  pretty,  comfortable  little 
body  lying  on  the  ground  reading,  is  about  the  whole  that  he 
sees  in  the  subject. 

Batoni,  on  the  contrary,  seems,  by  some  strange  inspiration, 
to  set  before  us  one  of  the  highest,  noblest  class  of  women,  — 
a  creature  so  calm,  so  high,  so  pure,  that  we  ask  involuntarily, 
How  could  such  a  woman  ever  have  fallen  ?  The  answer  is 
ready.  There  is  a  class  of  women  who  fall  through  what  is 
highest  in  them,  through  the  noblest  capability  of  a  human 
being,  —  utter  self-sacrificing  love.  True,  we  cannot  flatter  our¬ 
selves  that  these  instances  are  universal,  but  they  do  exist. 
Many  women  fall  through  the  weakness  of  self-indulgent  pas¬ 
sion,  many  from  love  of  luxury,  many  from  vanity  and  pride, 
too  many  from  the  mere  coercion  of  hard  necessity  ;  but  among 
the  sad,  unblest  crowd  there  is  a  class  who  are  the  victims  of 

297 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

a  power  of  self-forgetting  love,  which  is  one  of  the  most  an¬ 
gelic  capabilities  of  our  nature. 

We  have  shown  all  along  that  in  the  dispensation  which 
prepared  the  way  for  the  great  Messiah  and  the  Christian  Era, 
woman  was  especially  cared  for.  In  all  that  pertained  to  the 
spiritual  and  immortal  nature  she  was  placed  on  an  equality 
with  man,  —  she  could  be  the  vehicle  of  the  prophetic  inspira¬ 
tion  ;  as  mother  she  was  equally  with  man  enthroned  queen 
of  the  family;  and  her  sins  against  chastity  were  treated  pre¬ 
cisely  as  those  of  man,  —  as  the  sin,  not  of  sex,  but  of  a  per¬ 
sonal  moral  agent. 

The  Christian  Era,  unfolding  out  of  the  Mosaic  like  a  rare 
flower  from  a  carefully  cultured  stock,  brought,  in  a  still  higher 
degree,  salvation  to  woman.  The  son  of  Mary  was  the  pro¬ 
tector  of  woman,  and  one  of  the  earliest  and  most  decided 
steps  in  his  ministry  was  his  practical  and  authoritative  asser 
tion  of  the  principle,  that  fallen  woman  is  as  capable  of  res¬ 
toration  through  penitence  as  fallen  man,  and  that  repentance 
should  do  for  a  fallen  woman  whatever  it  might  do  for  fallen 
man. 

The  history  of  the  woman  taken  in  adultery  shows  how  com- 
pletely  that  spirit  of  injustice  to  woman,  which  still  shows  itself 
in  our  modern  life,  had  taken  possession  of  the  Jewish  aris¬ 
tocracy.  We  hear  no  word  of  the  guilty  man  who  was  her 
partner  in  crime ;  we  see  around  Jesus  a  crowd  clamoring  for 
the  deadly  sentence  of  the  Mosaic  law  on  the  woman.  Jesus, 
by  one  lightning  stroke  of  penetrative  omniscience,  rouses  the 
dead  sense  of  shame  in  the  accusers,  and  sends  them  humbled 
from  his  presence,  while  the  sinful  woman  is  saved  for  a  bet¬ 
ter  future. 

The  absolute  divinity  of  Jesus,  the  height  at  which  he  stood 
above  ah  men,  is  nowhere  so  shown  as  in  what  he  dared  and 
did  for  woman,  and  the  godlike  consciousness  of  power  with 
which  he  did  it.  It  was  at  a  critical  period  in  his  ministry, 
when  all  eyes  were  fixed  on  him  in  keen  inquiry,  when  many 
of  the  respectable  classes  were  yet  trembling  in  the  balance 
whether  to  accept  his  claims  or  no,  that  Jesus  in  the  calmest 
and  most  majestic  manner  took  ground  that  the  sins  of  a  fallen 

298 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 

woman  were  like  any  other  sins,  and  that  repentant  love  en¬ 
titled  to  equal  forgiveness.  The  story  so  wonderful  can  be 
told  only  in  the  words  of  the  sacred  narrative. 

“And  one  of  the  Pharisees  desired  him  that  he  would  eat 
with  him,  and  he  went  into  the  Pharisee’s  house  and  sat  down 
to  meat.  And  behold  a  woman  in  that  city  which  was  a  sin¬ 
ner,  when  she  knew  that  Jesus  sat  at  meat  in  the  Pharisee’s 
house,  brought  an  alabaster  box  of  ointment,  and  stood  at  his 
feet  behind  him,  weeping,  and  began  to  wash  his  feet  with 
tears,  and  did  wipe  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head,  and 
kissed  his  feet  and  anointed  them  with  the  ointment.  Now 
when  the  Pharisee  which  had  bidden  him  saw  it,  he  spake 
within  himself,  saying,  This  man,  if  he  were  a  prophet,  would 
have  known  who  and  what  manner  of  woman  this  is,  for  she 
is  a  sinner.  And  Jesus  answering  said  unto  him,  Simon,  I 
have  somewhat  to  say  unto  thee.  He  said  unto  him,  Master, 
say  on.  There  was  a  certain  creditor  had  two  debtors ;  the 
one  owed  him  five  hundred  pence  and  the  other  fifty,  and 
when  they  had  nothing  to  pay  he  frankly  forgave  them  both. 
Tell  me,  therefore,  which  will  love  him  most.  Simon  an¬ 
swered  and  said,  I  suppose  he  to  whom  he  forgave  most. 
And  he  said  unto  him,  Thou  hast  rightly  judged.  And  he 
turned  to  the  woman  and  said  unto  Simon,  Seest  thou  this 
woman.  I  entered  into  thy  house  and  thou  gavest  me  no 
water  for  my  feet,  but  she  hath  washed  my  feet  with  tears 
and  wiped  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  Thou  gavest 
me  no  kiss,  but  this  woman,  since  the  time  I  came  in,  hath 
not  ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  My  head  with  oil  thou  didst  not 
anoint,  but  she  hath  anointed  my  feet  with  ointment.  Where¬ 
fore,  I  say  unto  you,  her  sins,  which  are  many,  are  forgiven 
her,  for  she  loved  much  ;  but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven  the 
same  loveth  little.  And  he  said  unto  her,  Thy  sins  are  for¬ 
given.  And  they  that  sat  at  meat  began  to  say  within  them¬ 
selves,  Who  is  this  that  forgiveth  sins  also  ?  And  he  said  to 
the  woman,  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee ;  go  in  peace.” 

Nothing  can  be  added  to  the  pathos  and  solemn  dignity  of 
this  story,  in  which  our  Lord  assumed  with  tranquil  majesty 
the  rights  to  supreme  love  possessed  by  the  Creator,  and  his 

299 


WOMAN'  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

sovereign  power  to  forgive  sins  and  dispense  favors.  The  re¬ 
pentant  Magdalene  became  henceforth  one  of  the  characteristic 
figures  in  the  history  of  the  Christian  Church.  Mary  Magda¬ 
lene  became  eventually  a  prominent  figure  in  the  mythic 
legends  of  the  mediaeval  mythology.  A  long  history  of  mis 
sionary  labors  and  enthusiastic  preaching  of  the  gospel  in  dis¬ 
tant  regions  of  the  earth  is  ascribed  to  her.  Churches  arose 
that  bore  her  name,  hymns  were  addressed  to  her.  Even  the 
reforming  Savonarola  addresses  one  of  his  spiritual  canticles  to 
St.  Mary  Magdalene.  The  various  pictures  of  her  which  occur 
in  every  part  of  Europe  are  a  proof  of  the  interest  which  these 
legends  inspired.  The  most  of  them  are  wild  and  poetic,  and 
exhibit  a  striking  contrast  to  the  concise  brevity  and  simplicity 
of  the  New  Testament  story. 

The  mythic  legends  make  up  a  romance  in  which  Mary  the 
sister  of  Martha  and  Mary  Magdalene  the  sinner  are  oddly 
considered  as  the  same  person.  It  is  sufficient  to  read  the 
chapter  in  St.  John  which  gives  an  account  of  the  raising  of 
Lazarus,  to  perceive  that  such  a  confusion  is  absurd.  Mary  and 
Martha  there  appear  as  belonging  to  a  family  in  good  stand¬ 
ing,  to  which  many  flocked  with  expressions  of  condolence 
and  respect  in  time  of  affliction.  And  afterwards,  in  that 
grateful  feast  made  for  the  restoration  of  their  brother,  we 
read  that  so  many  flocked  to  the  house  that  the  jealousy  of 
the  chief  priests  was  excited.  All  these  incidents,  representing  a 
family  of  respectability,  are  entirely  inconsistent  with  any  such 
supposition.  But  while  we  repudiate  this  extravagance  of  the 
tradition,  there  does  seem  ground  for  identifying  the  Mary 
Magdalene,  who  was  one  of  the  most  devoted  followers  of  our 
Lord,  with  the  forgiven  sinner  of  this  narrative.  We  read  of 
a  company  of  women  who  followed  Jesus  and  ministered  to 
him.  In  the  eighth  chapter  of  Luke  he  is  said  to  be  accom¬ 
panied  by  “  certain  women  which  had  been  healed  of  evil 
spirits  and  infirmities,”  among  whom  is  mentioned  “  Mary 
called  Magdalene,”  as  having  been  a  victim  of  demoniacal 
possession.  Some  women  of  rank  and  fortune  also  are  men¬ 
tioned  as  members  of  the  same  company :  u  Joanna  the  wife 
of  Chusa,  Herod’s  steward,  and  Susanna,  and  many  others 

300 


MAR  Y  MA  ODALENE. 

who  ministered  to  him  of  their  substance.”  A  modern  com¬ 
mentator  thinks  it  improbable  that  Mary  Magdalene  could  be 
identified  with  the  “  sinner  ”  spoken  of  by  St.  Luke,  because 
women  of  standing  like  Joanna  and  Susanna  would  not  have 
received  one  of  her  class  to  their  company.  We  ask  why  not? 
If  Jesus  had  received  her,  had  forgiven  and  saved  her;  if  he 
acknowledged  previously  her  grateful  ministrations,  —  is  it 
likely  that  they  would  reject  her  1  It  was  the  very  peculiarity 
and  glory  of  the  new  kingdom  that  it  had  a  better  future  for 
sinners,  and  for  sinful  woman  as  well  as  sinful  man.  Jesus 
did  not  hesitate  to  say  to  the  proud  and  prejudiced  religious 
aristocracy  of  his  day,  “  The  publicans  and  harlots  go  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  before  you.”  We  cannot  doubt  that 
the  loving  Christian  women  who  ministered  to  Jesus  received 
this  penitent  sister  as  a  soul  absolved  and  purified  by  the 
sovereign  word  of  their  Lord,  and  henceforth  there  was  for 
her  a  full  scope  for  that  ardent,  self-devoting  power  of  her 
nature  which  had  been  her  ruin,  and  was  now  to  become  her 
salvation. 

Some  commentators  seem  to  think  that  the  dreadful  demo¬ 
niacal  possession  which  was  spoken  of  in  Mary  Magdalene 
proves  her  not  to  have  been  identical  with  the  woman  of 
St.  Luke.  But  on  the  contrary,  it  would  seem  exactly  to  ac¬ 
count  for  actions  of  a  strange  and  unaccountable  wickedness, 
for  a  notoriety  in  crime  that  went  far  to  lead  the  Pharisees  to 
feel  that  her  very  touch  was  pollution.  The  story  is  symbolic 
of  what  is  too  often  seen  in  the  fall  of  woman.  A  noble  and 
beautiful  nature  wrecked  through  inconsiderate  prodigality  of 
love,  deceived,  betrayed,  ruined,  often  drifts  like  a  shipwrecked 
bark  into  the  power  of  evil  spirits.  Rage,  despair,  revenge, 
cruelty,  take  possession  of  the  crushed  ruin  that  should  have 
been  the  home  of  the  sweetest  affections.  We  are  not  told 
when  or  where  the  healing  word  was  spoken  that  drove  the 
cruel  fiends  from  Mary’s  soul.  Perhaps  before  she  entered  the 
halls  of  the  Pharisee,  while  listening  to  the  preaching  of  Jesus, 
the  madness  and  despair  had  left  her.  We  can  believe  that 
in  his  higher  moods  virtue  went  from  him,  and  there  was  around 
him  a  holy  and  cleansing  atmosphere  from  which  all  evil  fied 

301 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HISTORY. 

away,  —  a  serene  and  healing’  purity  which  calmed  the  throb¬ 
bing  fever  of  passion  and  gave  the  soul  once  more  the  image 
of  its  better  self. 

We  see  in  the  manner  in  which  Mary  found  her  way  to  the 
feet  of  Jesus  the  directness  and  vehemence,  the  uncalculating 
self-sacrifice  and  self-abandon,  of  one  of  those  natures  which, 
when  they  move,  move  with  a  rush  of  undivided  impulse ; 
which,  when  they  love,  trust  all,  believe  all,  and  are  ready  to 
sacrifice  all.  As  once  she  had  lost  herself  in  this  self-abandon¬ 
ment,  so  now  at  the  feet  of  her  God  she  gains  all  by  the  same 
power  of  self-surrender. 

We  do  not  meet  Mary  Magdalene  again  till  we  find  her  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross,  sharing  the  last  anguish  of  our  Lord 
and  his  mother.  We  find  her  watching  the  sepulcher,  prepar¬ 
ing  sweet  spices  for  embalming.  In  the  dim  gray  of  the  res¬ 
urrection  morning  she  is  there  again,  only  to  find  the  sepulcher 
open  and  the  beloved  form  gone.  Everything  in  this  last 
scene  is  in  consistency  with  the  idea  of  the  passionate  self-de¬ 
votion  of  a  nature  whose  sole  life  is  in  its  love.  The  disciples, 
when  they  found  not  the  body,  went  away ;  but  Mary  stood 
without  at  the  sepulcher  weeping,  and  as  she  wept  she  stooped 
down  and  looked  into  the  sepulcher.  The  angels  said  to  her, 
“Woman,  why  weepest  thou?  She  answered,  Because  they 
have  taken  away  my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they 
have  laid  him.”  She  then  turns  and  sees  through  her  tears 
dimly  the  form  of  a  man  standing  there.  “Jesus  saith  unto 
her,  Woman,  why  weepest  thou?  whom  seekest  thou?  She, 
supposing  him  to  be  the  gardener,  saith  unto  him,  Sir,  if 
thou  have  borne  him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid 
him,  and  I  will  go  and  take  him  away.  Jesus  saith  unto 
her,  Mary !  She  turned  herself  and  said  unto  him,  Rabboni,  — 
Master !  ” 

In  all  this  we  see  the  characteristic  devotion  and  energy  of 
her  who  loved  much  because  she  was  forgiven  much.  It  was  the 
peculiarity  of  Jesus  that  he  saw  the  precious  capability  of  every 
nature,  even  in  the  very  dust  of  defilement.  The  power  of  de¬ 
voted  love  is  the  crown-jewel  of  the  soul,  and  Jesus  had  the  eye 
**  to  see  where  it  lay  trampled  in  the  mire,  and  the  strong  hand  to 

302 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 

bring  it  forth  purified  and  brightened.  It  is  the  deepest  malig¬ 
nity  of  Satan  to  degrade  and  ruin  souls  through  love.  It  is  the 
glory  of  Christ,  through  love,  to  redeem  and  restore. 

In  the  history  of  Christ  as  a  teacher,  it  is  remarkable,  that, 
while  he  was  an  object  of  enthusiastic  devotion  to  so  many 
women,  while  a  band  of  them  followed  his  preaching  and  min¬ 
istered  to  his  wants  and  those  of  his  disciples,  yet  there  was 
about  him  something  so  entirely  unworldly,  so  sacredly  high 
and  pure,  that  even  the  very  suggestion  of  scandal  in  this  re¬ 
gard  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  bitterest  vituperations  of  his 
enemies  of  the  first  two  centuries. 

If  we  compare  Jesus  with  Socrates,  the  moral  teacher  most 
frequently  spoken  of  as  approaching  him,  we  shall  see  a  won¬ 
derful  contrast.  Socrates  associated  with  courtesans,  without 
passion  and  without  reproof,  in  a  spirit  of  half-sarcastic,  phil¬ 
osophic  tolerance.  No  quickening  of  the  soul  of  woman,  no 
call  to  a  higher  life,  came  from  him.  Jesus  is  stern  and  grave 
in  his  teachings  of  personal  purity,  severe  in  his  requirements. 
He  was  as  intolerant  to  sin  as  he  was  merciful  to  penitence. 
He  did  not  extenuate  the  sins  he  forgave.  He  declared  the 
sins  of  Mary  to  be  many ,  in  the  same  breath  that  he  pronounced 
her  pardon.  He  said  to  the  adulterous  woman  whom  he  pro¬ 
tected,  “  Gfo,  sin  no  more.”  The  penitents  who  joined  the 
company  of  his  disciples  were  so  raised  above  their  former 
selves,  that,  instead  of  being  the  shame,  they  were  the  glory 
of  the  new  kingdom.  St.  Paul  says  to  the  first  Christians, 
speaking  of  the  adulterous  and  impure,  “  Such  were  some  of 
you,  but  ye  are  washed,  but  ye  are  sanctified,  but  ye  are 
justified  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  by  the  Spirit  of 
God.” 

The  tradition  of  the  Church  that  Mary  Magdalene  was  an 
enthusiastic  preacher  of  Jesus  seems  in  keeping  with  all  we 
know  of  the  strength  and  fervor  of  her  character.  Such  love 
must  find  expression,  and  we  are  told  that  when  the  first  per¬ 
secution  scattered  the  little  church  at  Jerusalem,  “  they  that 
were  scattered  went  everywhere,  preaching  the  word.”  Some 
of  the  most  effective  preaching  of  Christ  is  that  of  those  who 
testify  in  their  own  person  of  a  great  salvation.  “  He  can 

303 


WOMAN  JN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

save  to  the  uttermost,  for  he  has  saved  me,”  is  a  testimony 
that  often  goes  more  straight  to  the  heart  than  all  the  argu¬ 
ments  of  learning.  Christianity  had  this  peculiarity  over  all 
other  systems,  that  it  not  only  forgave  the  past,  but  made 
of  its  bitter  experiences  a  healing  medicine ;  so  that  those  who 
had  sinned  deepest  might  have  therefrom  a  greater  redeeming 
power.  “  When  thou  art  converted,  strengthen  thy  brethren,” 
was  the  watchword  of  the  penitent. 

The  wonderful  mind  of  Goethe  has  seized  upon  and  em¬ 
bodied  this  peculiarity  of  Christianity  in  his  great  poem  of 
Faust.  The  first  part  shows  the  Devil  making  of  the  sweet¬ 
est  and  noblest  affection  of  the  confiding  Margaret  a  cruel 
poison  to  corrupt  both  body  and  soul.  We  see  her  driven  to 
crime,  remorse,  shame,  despair,  —  all  human  forms  and  forces 
of  society  united  to  condemn  her,  when  with  a  last  cry  she 
stretches  her  poor  hands  to  heaven  and  says,  “Judgment  of 
God,  I  commend  myself  to  you  ” ;  and  then  falls  a  voice  from 
heaven,  “She  is  judged;  she  is  saved.” 

In  the  second  part  we  see  the  world-worn,  weary  Faust 
passing  through  the  classic  mythology,  vainly  seeking  rest  and 
finding  none ;  he  seeks  rest  in  a  life  of  benevolence  to  man, 
but  fiends  of  darkness  conflict  with  his  best  aspirations,  and 
dog  his  steps  through  life,  and  in  his  dying  hour  gather 
round  to  seize  his  soul  and  carry  it  to  perdition.  But  around 
him  is  a  shining  band.  Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus,  with  a 
company  of  purified  penitents,  encircle  him,  and  his  soul 
passes,  in  infantine  weakness,  to  the  guardian  arms  of  Mar¬ 
garet, —  once  a  lost  and  ruined  woman,  now  a  strong  and  piti¬ 
ful  angel, — who,  like  a  tender  mother,  leads  the  new-born  soul 
to  look  upon  the  glories  of  heaven,  while  angel-voices  sing 
of  the  victory  of  good  over  evil :  — 

“  All  that  is  transient 
Is  but  a  parable  ; 

The  unattainable 
Here  is  made  real. 

The  indescribable 
Here  is  accomplished  ; 

The  eternal  womanly 

Draws  us  upward  and  onward.” 

304 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 


THE  TOWER  OF  MAGDALA. 

Mary  Magdalene. 

OMPANIONLESS,  unsatisfied,  forlorn, 

T  sit  here  in  this  lonely  tower,  and  look 
Upon  the  lake  below  me,  and  the  hills 
That  swoon  with  heat,  and  see  as  in  a  vision 
All  my  past  life  unroll  itself  before  me. 

The  princes  and  the  merchants  come  to  me, 
Merchants  of  Tyre  and  princes  of  Damascus, 

And  pass,  and  disappear,  and  arc  no  more ; 

But  leave  behind  their  merchandise  and  jewels, 
Their  perfumes,  and  their  gold,  and  their  disgust. 

I  loathe  them,  and  the  very  memory  of  them 
Is  unto  me  as  thought  of  food  to  one 
Cloyed  with  the  luscious  figs  of  Dalmanutha ! 
What  if  hereafter,  in  the  long  hereafter 
Of  endless  joy  or  pain,  or  joy  in  pain, 

It  were  my  punishment  to  be  with  them 
Grown  hideous  and  decrepit  in  their  sins, 

And  hear  them  say  :  Thou  hast  brought  us  here, 
Be  unto  us  as  thou  hast  been  of  old  ! 

I  look  upon  this  raiment  that  I  wear, 

These  silks,  and  these  embroideries,  and  they  seem 
Only  as  cerements  wrapped  about  my  limbs  ! 

I  look  upon  these  rings  thick  set  with  pearls 
And  emerald  and  amethyst  and  jasper, 

And  they  are  burning  coals  upon  my  flesh  ! 

This  serpent  on  my  wrist  becomes  alive ! 

Away,  thou  viper !  and  away,  ye  garlands, 

Whose  odors  bring  the  swift  remembrance  back 
Of  the  unhallowed  revels  in  these  chambers  ! 

305 


WO  MAX  IX  SACKED  HISTORY. 

But  yesterday,  —  and  yet  it  seems  to  me 
Something  remote,  like  a  pathetic  song 
Sung  long  ago  by  minstrels  in  the  street,  — 

But  yesterday,  as  from  this  tower  I  gazed, 

Over  the  olive  and  the  walnut  trees, 

Upon  the  lake  and  the  white  ships,  and  wondered 

Whither  and  whence  they  steered,  and  who  was  in  them, 

A  fisher’s  boat  drew  near  the  landing-place 

Under  the  oleanders,  and  the  people 

Came  up  from  it,  and  passed  beneath  the  tower, 

Close  under  me.  In  front  of  them,  as  leader, 

Walked  one  of  royal  aspect,  clothed  in  white, 

Who  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  looked  at  me, 

And  all  at  once  the  air  seemed  filled  and  living 
With  a  mysterious  power,  that  streamed  from  him, 

And  overflowed  me  with  an  atmosphere 
Of  light  and  love.  As  one  entranced  I  stood, 

And  when  I  woke  again,  lo  !  he  was  gone ; 

So  that  I  said  :  Perhaps  it  is  a  dream. 

But  from  that  very  hour  the  seven  demons 
That  had  their  habitation  in  this  body 
Which  men  call  beautiful,  departed  from  me  ! 

This  morning,  when  the  first  gleam  of  the  dawn 
Made  Lebanon  a  glory  in  the  air, 

And  all  below  was  darkness,  I  beheld 
An  angel,  or  a  spirit  glorified, 

With  wind-tossed  garments  walking  on  the  lake. 

The  face  I  could  not  see,  but  I  distinguished 
The  attitude  and  gesture,  and  I  knew 
’T  was  he  that  healed  me.  And  the  gusty  wind 
Brought  to  mine  ears  a  voice,  which  seemed  to  say : 

Be  of  good  cheer  !  T  is  I  !  Be  not  afraid  ! 

And  from  the  darkness,  scarcely  heard,  the  answer : 

If  it  be  thou,  bid  me  come  unto  thee 
Upon  the  water  !  And  the  voice  said  :  Come  ! 

And  then  I  heard  a  cry  of  fear :  Lord,  save  me  ! 

As  of  a  drowning  man.  And  then  the  voice  : 

Why  didst  thou  doubt,  0  thou  of  little  faith  ! 

At  this  all  vanished,  and  the  wind  was  hushed, 

And  the  great  sun  came  up  above  the  hills, 

And  the  swift-flying  vapors  hid  themselves 

.306 


MAR  Y  MA  ORAL  RYE. 

In  caverns  among  the  rocks  !  0,  I  must  find  him 

And  follow  him,  and  be  with  him  forever  ! 

Thou  box  of  alabaster,  in  whose  walls 

The  souls  of  flowers  lie  pent,  the  precious  balm 

And  spikenard  of  Arabian  farms,  the  spirits 

Of  aromatic  herbs,  ethereal  natures 

Nursed  by  the  sun  and  dew,  not  all  unworthy 

To  bathe  his  consecrated  feet,  whose  step 

Makes  every  threshold  holy  that  he  crosses ; 

Let  us  go  forth  upon  our  pilgrimage, 

Thou  and  I  only  !  Let  us  search  for  him 
Until  we  find  him,  and  pour  out  our  souls 
Before  his  feet,  till  all  that ’s  left  of  us 
Shall  be  the  broken  caskets,  that  once  held  us  ! 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SIMON  THE  PHARISEE. 

A  Guest,  at  table. 

Are  ye  deceived  ?  Have  any  of  the  Rulers 
Believed  on  him  ?  or  do  they  know  indeed 
This  man  to  be  the  very  Christ  ?  Howbeit 
We  know  whence  this  man  is,  but  when  the  Christ 
Shall  come,  none  knoweth  whence  he  is. 

Christus. 

Whercunto  shall  I  liken,  then,  the  men 
Of  this  generation  ?  and  what  are  they  like  ? 

They  are  like  children  sitting  in  the  markets, 

And  calling  unto  one  another,  saying : 

We  have  piped  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  danced  ; 
We  have  mourned  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  wept ! 
This  say  I  unto  you,  for  John  the  Baptist 
Came  neither  eating  bread  nor  drinking  wine  ; 

Ye  say  he  hath  a  devil.  The  Son  of  Man 
Eating  and  drinking  cometh,  and  ye  say : 

Behold  a  gluttonous  man,  and  a  wine-bibber ; 

Behold  a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners  ! 

307 


WOMAN  IX  SAC  BED  HISTORY. 

A  Guest,  aside  to  Simon. 

Who  is  that  woman  yonder,  gliding  in 
So  silently  behind  him  ? 

Simon. 

It  is  Mary, 

Who  dwelleth  in  the  Tower  of  Magdala. 

The  Guest. 

See,  how  she  kneels  there  weeping,  and  her  tears 
Fall  on  his  feet ;  and  her  long,  golden  hair 
Waves  to  and  fro  and  wipes  them  dry  again. 

And  now  she  kisses  them,  and  from  a  box 
Of  alabaster  is  anointing  them 
With  precious  ointment,  filling  all  the  house 
With  its  sweet  odor ! 

Simon,  aside. 

0,  this  man,  forsooth, 

Were  he  indeed  a  Prophet,  would  have  known 
Who  and  what  manner  of  woman  this  may  be 
That  toueheth  him  !  would  know  she  is  a  sinner  ! 

Christus. 

Simon,  somewhat  have  I  to  say  to  thee. 

Simon. 

Master,  say  on. 

Christus. 

A  certain  creditor 

Had  once  two  debtors ;  and  the  one  of  them 
Owed  him  five  hundred  pence ;  the  other,  fifty. 
They  having  naught  to  pay  withal,  he  frankly 

308 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 

Forgave  them  both.  Now  tell  me  which  of  them 
Will  love  him  most  ? 

Simon. 

He,  I  suppose,  to  whom 

He  most  forgave. 

Christus. 

Yea,  thou  hast  rightly  judged. 

Seest  thou  this  woman  ?  When  thine  house  I  entered, 

Thou  gavest  me  no  water  for  my  feet, 

But  she  hath  washed  them  with  her  tears,  and  wiped  them 
With  her  own  hair !  Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss  ; 

This  woman  hath  not  ceased,  since  I  came  in, 

To  kiss  my  feet !  My  head  with  oil  didst  thou 
Anoint  not ;  but  this  woman  hath  anointed 
My  feet  with  ointment.  Hence  I  say  to  thee, 

Her  sins,  which  have  been  many,  are  forgiven, 

For  she  loved  much. 

The  Guests. 

0,  ivho,  then,  is  this  man 
That  pardoneth  also  sins  without  atonement  ? 

Christus. 

Woman,  thy  faith  hath  saved  thee  !  Go  in  peace  ! 

From  the  “Divine  Tragedy,”  by  H.  IF.  Longfellow. 

309 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 


ITH  eyes  aglow,  and  aimless  zeal, 
She  hither,  thither,  goes ; 

Her  speech,  her  motions,  all  reveal 


A  mind  without  repose. 


She  climbs  the  hills,  she  haunts  the  sea, 
By  madness  tortured,  driven  ; 

One  hour’s  forgetfulness  would  be 
A  gift  from  very  Heaven. 


The  night  brings  sleep,  sleep  new  distress ; 

The  anguish  of  the  day 
Returns  as  free,  in  darker  dress, 

In  more  secure  dismay. 


The  demons  blast  her  to  and  fro ; 

She  has  no  quiet  place  ; 

Enough  a  woman  still  to  know 
A  haunting  dim  disgrace. 


Hers  in  no  other  eyes  confide 
For  even  a  moment  brief ; 

With  restless  glance  they  turn  aside, 
Lest  they  betray  her  grief. 


A  human  touch  !  a  pang  of  death  ! 

And  in  a  low  delight 
Thou  best,  waiting  for  new  breath, 
For  morning  out  of  night. 

310 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 

Thou  risest  up  :  the  earth  is  fair, 

The  wind  is  cool  and  free  ; 

Is  it  a  dream  of  hell’s  despair 
Dissolves  in  ecstasy  ? 

Did  this  man  touch  thee  ?  Eyes  divine 
Make  sunrise  in  thy  soul ; 

Thou  seest  love  and  order  shine  : 

His  health  hath  made  thee  whole. 

What  matter  that  the  coming  time 
Will  stain  thy  virgin  name  ! 

Will  call  thine  agony  thy  crime, 

And  count  thy  madness  blame  ! 


Let  the  reproach  of  men  abide  ! 

He  shall  be  well  content 
To  see  not  seldom  by  his  side 
Thy  head  serenely  bent. 


Thou,  sharing  in  the  awful  doom, 

Shalt  help  thy  Lord  to  die  ; 

And,  mourning  o’er  his  empty  tomb, 

First  share  his  victory. 

Rev.  George  MacDonald. 


311 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 


AT  THE  DOOR  OF  SIMON  THE  PHARISEE. 

[To  accompany  a  drawing  in  which  Mary  is  represented  as  having  left  a  festal  procession, 
and  as  ascending  by  a  sudden  impulse  the  steps  of  the  house  where  she  sees  Christ.  Her 
lover  has  followed  her,  and  is  trying  to  turn  her  back.] 


HY  wilt  thou  cast  the  roses  from  thine  hair  ? 

Nay,  be  thou  all  a  rose,  —  wreath,  lips,  and  cheek. 
Nay,  not  this  house,  —  that  banquet-house  we.  seek  ; 


See  how  they  kiss  and  enter ;  come  thou  there. 

This  delicate  day  of  love  we  two  will  share 

Till  at  our  ear  love’s  whispering  night  shall  speak. 
What,  sweet  one,  —  hold’st  thou  still  the  foolish  freak  ? 
Nay,  when  I  kiss  thy  feet  they  ’ll  leave  the  stair.” 


“  0,  loose  me  !  See’st  thou  not  my  Bridegroom’s  face 
That  draws  me  to  him  ?  For  his  feet  my  kiss, 

My  hair,  my  tears,  he  craves  to-day  ;  —  and  0, 

What  words  can  tell  what  other  day  and  place 
Shall  see  me  clasp  those  blood-stained  feet  of  his  ? 

He  needs  me,  calls  me,  loves  me,  —  let  me  go  !  ” 

Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti. 


312 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 

FROM  THE  SPANISH. 

LESSED,  yet  sinful  one,  and  broken-hearted  ! 
The  crowd  are  pointing  at  the  thing  forlorn, 
In  wonder  and  in  scorn  ! 

Thou  waepest  days  of  innocence  departed  ; 

Thou  w'eepest,  and  thy  tears  have  power  to  move 
The  Lord  to  pity  and  love. 

The  greatest  of  thy  follies  is  forgiven, 

Even  for  the  least  of  all  the  tears  that  shine 
On  that  pale  cheek  of  thine. 

Thou  didst  kneel  down  to  him  who  came  from  heaven, 
Evil  and  ignorant,  and  thou  shalt  rise 
Holy,  and  pure,  and  wise. 

It  is  not  much  that  to  the  fragrant  blossom 
The  ragged  brier  should  change  ;  the  bitter  fir 
Distill  Arabian  myrrh  ; 

Nor  that,  upon  the  wintry  desert’s  bosom, 

The  harvest  should  rise  plenteous,  and  the  swain 
Bear  home  the  abundant  grain. 

But  come  and  see  the  bleak  and  barren  mountains 
Thick  to  their  tops  with  roses  ;  come  and  see 
Leaves  on  the  dry  dead  tree  : 

The  perished  plant,  set  out  bv  living  fountains, 

Growrs  fruitful,  and  its  beauteous  branches  rise, 
Forever,  towards  the  skies. 

William  Cullen  Bryant. 

31.1 


THE  PENITENT’S  OFFERING. 

OU  that  with  pallid  cheek, 

And  eyes  in  sadness  meek, 

And  faded  locks  that  humbly  swept  the  ground, 
From  their  long  wanderings  Avon, 

Before  the  all-healing  Son, 

Didst  boAv  thee  to  the  earth,  0  lost  and  found ! 

When  thou  wouldst  bathe  his  feet 
With  odors  richly  sweet, 

And  many  a  shower  of  woman’s  burning  tear, 

And  dry  them  with  that  hair 
Brought  Ioav  the  dust  to  wear 
From  the  crowned  beauty  of  its  festal  year, 

Did  he  reject  thee  then, 

While  the  sharp  scorn  of  men 
On  thy  once  bright  and  stately  head  Avas  cast  ? 

No,  from  the  Saviour’s  mien 
A  solemn  light  serene 
Bore  to  thy  soul  the  peace  of  God  at  last. 

For  thee  their  smiles  no  more 
Fami  iar  faces  wore  ; 

Voices,  once  kind,  had  learned  the  stranger’s  tone. 

Who  raised  thee  up  and  bound 
Thy  silent  spirit’s  wound  ? 

He,  from  all  guilt  the  stainless,  he  alone  ! 

But  Avhich,  0  erring  child, 

From  home  so  long  beguiled, 

Which  of  thine  offerings  won  those  words  of  Heaven, 

314 


THE  PENITENTS  OFFERING. 

That  o’er  the  bruised  reed, 

Condemned  of  earth  to  bleed, 

In  music  passed,  “  Thy  sins  are  all  forgiven  ”  ? 


Was  it  that  perfume,  fraught 
With  balm  and  incense,  brought 
From  the  sweet  woods  of  Araby  the  blest  ? 

Or  that  fast-liowing  rain 
Of  tears  which  not  in  vain 
To  him  who  scorned  not  tears  thy  woes  confessed? 


No,  not  by  these  restored 
Unto  thy  Father’s  board, 

Thy  peace  that  kindled  joy  in  heaven  was  made  ; 

Hut  costlier  in  his  eyes 
By  that  blest  sacrifice, 

Thy  heart,  thy  full  deep  heart  before  him  laid. 

Felicia  Hemans. 

315 


MARY  MAGDALENE. 


IIEN  blessed  Mary  wiped  her  Saviour’s  feet 
(Whose  precepts  she  had  trampled  on  before), 
And  wore  them  for  a  jewel  on  her  head, 
Shewing  his  steps  should  be  the  street 
Wherein  she  henceforth  evermore, 

With  pensive  humbleness,  would  live  and  tread  : 

She  being  stained  herself,  why  did  she  strive 
To  make  him  clean  who  could  not  be  defiled  ? 

Why  kept  she  not  her  tears  for  her  own  faults, 

And  not  his  feet  ?  Though  we  could  dive 
In  tears,  like  seas  ;  our  sins  are  piled 
Deeper  than  they,  in  words,  and  works,  and  thoughts. 

Dear  soul,  she  knew  who  did  vouchsafe  and  deign 
To  bear  her  filth  ;  and  that  her  sins  did  dash 
E’en  God  himself ;  wherefore  she  was  not  loath, 

As  she  had  brought  wherewith  to  stain, 

So  to  bring  in  wherewith  to  wash  : 

And  yet  in  washing  one  she  washed  both. 

George  Herbert. 

316 


SONNETS. 


I.  ANOINTING  CHRIST’S  FEET. 


HERE  was  a  mournfulness  in  angel  eyes, 


HI,  u!  That  saw  thee,  woman  !  bright  in  this  world’s  train, 
Moving  to  pleasure’s  airy  melodies, 

Thyself  the  idol  of  the  enchanted  strain. 

But  from  thy  beauty’s  garland,  brief  and  vain, 

When  one  by  one  the  rose-leaves  had  been  torn, 

When  thy  heart’s  core  had  quivered  to  the  pain 
Through  every  life-nerve  sent  by  arrowy  scorn  ; 

When  thou  didst  kneel  to  pour  sweet  odors  forth 
On  the  Redeemer’s  feet,  with  many  a  sigh, 

And  showering  tear-drop,  of  yet  richer  worth 
Than  all  those  costly  balms  of  Araby  ; 

Then  was  there  joy,  a  song  of  joy  in  heaven, 

For  thee,  the  child  won  back,  the  penitent  forgiven ! 


II.  AT  THE  SEPULCHER. 

as  given 


When  that  high  voice  which  burial  rocks  had  riven, 
Thrilled  with  immortal  tones  the  silent  air ! 

Never  did  clarion’s  royal  blast  declare 
Such  tale  of  victory  to  a  breathless  crowd, 

As  the  deep  sweetness  of  one  word  could  bear 
Into  thy  heart  of  hearts,  0  woman  !  bowed 
By  strong  affection’s  anguish  !  —  one  low  word  — 

“Mary!”  —  and  all  the  triumph  wrung  from  death 
Was  thus  revealed  !  and  thou,  that  so  hadst  erred, 


317 


WO  MAX  IX  SACKED  HISTORY. 


So  wept,  and  been  forgiven,  in  trembling  faith 
Didst  cast  thee  down  before  the  all-conquering  Son, 
Awed  by  the  mighty  gift  thy  tears  and  love  had  won  ! 


III.  BEARING  TIDINGS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION. 


HEN  was  a  task  of  glory  all  thine  own, 

Nobler  than  e’er  the  still  small  voice  assigned 
To  lips  in  awful  music  making  known 
The  stormy  splendors  of  some  prophet’s  mind. 

“  Christ  is  arisen  !  ”  by  thee,  to  wake  mankind, 

First  from  the  sepulcher  those  words  were  brought ! 

Thou  wert  to  send  the  mighty  rushing  wind 
First  on  its  way,  with  those  high  tidings  fraught,  — 

“  Christ  is  arisen  !  ”  Thou,  thou,  the  sin-enthralled, 
Earth’s  outcast,  Heaven’s  own  ransomed  one,  wert  called 
In  human  hearts  to  give  that  rapture  birth: 

0,  raised  from  shame  to  brightness  !  —  there  doth  lie 
The  tenderest  meaning  of  II is  ministry, 

Whose  undespairing  love  still  owned  the  spirit’s  worth. 

Felicia  Hermits. 


318 


TO  ST.  MARY  MAGDALENE 


ID  the  white  spouses  of  the  Sacred  Heart, 

After  its  Queen,  the  nearest,  dearest,  thou  ; 

Yet  the  aureola  around  thy  brow 
Is  not  the  Virgin’s.  Thine  a  throne  apart. 

Nor  yet,  my  Saint,  does  faith-illumined  art 
Thy  hand  with  palm  of  martyrdom  endow ; 

And  when  thy  hair  is  all  it  will  allow 
Of  glory  to  thy  head,  we  do  not  start. 

O  more  than  virgin  in  thy  penitent  love  1 
And  more  than  martyr  in  thy  passionate  woe  ! 

H  ow  should  thy  sisters  equal  thee  above 
Who  knelt  not  with  thee  on  the  gory  sod  ? 

Or  where  the  crown  our  worship  could  bestow 
Like  that  long  gold  that  wiped  the  feet  of  God  ? 

y  j  y  Catholic  World. 


i 


■i  i  io>i .'i !i  ;o  >1  [ t 1 1  j  n 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERODIAS. 


Vernf.t-Lecomte,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERODIAS. 

N  the  great  drama  of  the  history  of  Jesus  many  subor¬ 
dinate  figures  move  across  the  stage,  indicated  with 
more  or  less  power  by  the  unconscious  and  artless  sim¬ 
plicity  of  the  narrative.  Among  these  is  the  daughter 
of  Herodias,  whose  story  has  often  been  a  favorite  subject 
among  artists  as  giving  an  opportunity  of  painting  female 
beauty  and  fascination  in  affinity  with  the  deepest  and  most 
dreadful  tragedy. 

Salome  was  the  daughter  of  Herodias,  who  was  a  woman 
of  unbridled  passions  and  corrupt  will.  This  Herodias  had 
eloped  from  her  husband  Philip,  son  of  Herod  the  Great,  to 
marry  her  step-nncle,  Herod  Antipas,  who  forsook  for  her  his 
lawful  wife,  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  Arabia.  Herod  ap¬ 
pears  in  the  story  of  the  Gospels  as  a  man  with  just  enough 
conscience  and  aspiration  after  good  to  keep  him  always  un¬ 
easy,  but  not  enough  to  restrain  from  evil. 

When  the  ministry  of  John  powerfully  excited  the  public 
mind,  we  are  told  by  St.  Mark  that  “  Herod  feared  John,  know- 
tliat  he  was  a  just  man  and  holy,  and  he  observed  him,  and 
when  he  heard  him  he  did  many  things  and  heard  him  gladly.” 

The  Jewish  religion  strongly  cultivated  conscience  and  a 
belief  in  the  rewards  and  punishments  of  a  future  life,  and 
the  style  of  John’s  preaching  was  awful  and  monitory.  11  Be¬ 
hold  the  axe  is  laid  at  the  root  of  the  tree,  and  whatsoever 
tree  doth  not  bring  forth  good  fruit  shall  be  hewn  down  and 
cast  into  the  fire.”  There  was  no  indulgence  for  royal  trees ; 
no  concession  to  the  divine  right  of  kings  to  do  evil.  John 
was  a  prophet  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elijah ;  he  dwelt  in 
the  desert,  he  despised  the  power  and  splendor  of  courts,  and 
appeared  before  kings  as  God’s  messenger,  to  declare  his  will 

321 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

and  pronounce  sentence  of  wrath  on  the  disobedient.  So  with¬ 
out  scruple  he  denounced  the  adulterous  connection  of  his 
royal  hearer,  and  demanded  that  Herod  should  put  away  the 
guilty  woman  as  the  only  condition  of  salvation.  Herod  re¬ 
plied,  as  kings  have  been  in  the  habit  of  replying  to  such 
inconvenient  personal  application  of  God’s  laws :  he  shut  John 
up  in  prison.  It  is  said  in  St.  Mark  that  Herodias  had  a 
quarrel  against  him,  and  would  have  killed  him,  but  she  could 
not.  The  intensity  of  a  woman’s  hatred  looks  out  through 
this  chink  of  the  story  as  the  secret  exciting  power  to  the 
man’s  slower  passions.  She  would  have  had  him  killed  had 
she  been  able  to  have  her  way ;  she  can  only  compass  his  im¬ 
prisonment  for  the  present,  and  she  trusts  to  female  importu¬ 
nities  and  blandishments  to  finish  the  vengeance.  The  hour 
of  opportunity  comes.  We  are  told  in  the  record:  ‘ ‘  And  when 
a  convenient  day  came,  Herod  on  his  birthday  made  a  supper 
to  his  lords  and  high  captains  and  chief  estates  of  Galilee.” 

One  of  the  entertainments  of  the  evening  was  the  wonderful 
dancing  of  Salome,  the  daughter  of  his  paramour.  We  have 
heard  in  the  annals  of  the  modern  theatre  into  what  inconsid¬ 
erate  transports  of  rapture  crowned  heads  and  chief  captains 
and  mighty  men  of  valor  have  been  thrown  by  the  dancing 
of  some  enthroned  queen  of  the  ballet ;  and  one  does  not  feel 
it  incredible,  therefore,  that  Herod,  who  appeared  to  be  ner¬ 
vously  susceptible  to  all  kinds  of  influences,  said  to  the  en¬ 
chantress,  “  Ask  me  whatsoever  thou  wilt,  and  I  will  give  it 
thee ;  and  he  sware  unto  her  after  the  pattern  of  Ahasuerus  to 
Esther,  saying,  Whatsoever  thou  shalt  ask  of  me  I  will  give  it 
thee,  to  the  half  of  my  kingdom.”  And  now  the  royal  tigress, 
who  has  arranged  this  snare  and  watched  the  king’s  entrance 
into  the  toils,  prepares  to  draw  the  noose.  Salome  goes  to 
her  mother  and  says,  “What  shall  I  ask?”  The  answer  is 
ready.  Herodias  said,  with  perfect  explicitness,  “  Ask  for  the 
head  of  John  the  Baptist.”  So  the  graceful  creature  trips  back 
into  the  glittering  court  circle,  and,  bowing  her  flower-like  head, 
says  in  the  sweetest  tones,  “  Give  me  here  John  the  Baptist’s 
head  in  a  charger.” 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERO  DIAS. 

The  narrative  says  very  artlessly,  “And  the  king-  was  sorry, 
but  for  his  oath’s  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  them  that  sat  with 
him  at  meat,  he  would  not  refuse  her,  and  immediately  the 
king  sent  an  executioner  and  commanded  his  head  to  be 
brought,  and  he  went  and  beheaded  him  in  prison !  ” 

What  wonderful  contrasted  types  of  womanhood  the  Gospel 
history  gives  !  We  see  such  august  and  noble  forms  as  Elis¬ 
abeth,  the  mother  of  the  Baptist,  and  Mary,  the  mother  of 
Jesus,  by  the  side  of  this  haughty  royal  adulteress  and  her 
beautiful  daughter.  The  good  were  the  lower,  and  the  bad 
the  higher  class  of  that  day.  Vice  was  enthroned  and  tri¬ 
umphant,  while  virtue  walked  obscure  by  hedges  and  byways; 
a  dancing  girl  had  power  to  take  away  the  noblest  life  in 
Judaea,  next  to  that  which  was  afterward  taken  on  Calvary. 

No  throb  of  remorse  that  we  know  of  ever  visited  these 
women,  but  of  Herod  we  are  told  that  when  afterwards  he 
heard  of  the  preaching  and  mighty  works  of  Jesus,  he  said, 
“  It  is  John  the  Baptist  that  I  slew.  He  is  risen  from  the 
dead,  therefore  mighty  works  do  show  forth  themselves  in 
him.” 

In  the  last  scenes  of  our  Lord’s  life  we  meet  again  this  cred¬ 
ulous,  superstitious,  bad  man.  Pilate,  embarrassed  by  a  pris¬ 
oner  who  alarmed  his  fears  and  whom  he  was  troubled  to  dis¬ 
pose  of,  sent  Jesus  to  Herod.  Thus  we  see  the  licentious  tool 
and  slave  of  a  bad  woman  has  successively  before  his  judg¬ 
ment-seat  the  two  greatest  men  of  his  age  and  of  all  ages.  It 
is  said  Herod  received  Jesus  gladly,  for  he  had  a  long  time  been 
desirous  to  see  him,  for  he  hoped  some  miracle  would  be  done 
by  him.  But  he  was  precisely  of  the  class  of  whom  our  Lord 
spoke  when  he  said,  “  An  adulterous  generation  seeketh  a  sign, 
and  there  shall  no  sign  be  given  them.”  God  has  no  answer 
to  give  to  wicked,  unrepentant  curiosity,  and  though  Herod 
questioned  Jesus  in  many  words  he  answered  him  nothing. 
Then  we  are  told,  “  Herod  with  his  men  of  war  set  Jesus  at 
naught,  and  mocked  him,  and  arrayed  him  in  a  gorgeous  robe, 
and  sent  him  again  to  Pilate.”  And  this  was  how  the  great 
ones  of  the  earth  received  their  Lord. 

323 


SALOME,  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERODIAS. 


I.  BEFORE  THE  GATES  OF  MACH^RUS. 
Manahem. 

ELCOME,  0  wilderness,  and  welcome,  night 
And  solitude,  and  ye  swift-flying  stars 
That  drift  with  golden  sands  the  barren  heavens, 
Welcome  once  more  !  The  Angels  of  the  Wind 
Hasten  across  the  desert  to  receive  me ; 

And  sweeter  than  men’s  voices  are  to  me 
The  voices  of  these  solitudes  ;  the  sound 
Of  unseen  rivulets,  and  the  far-off  cry 
Of  bitterns  in  the  reeds  of  water-pools. 

And  lo  !  above  me,  like  the  Prophet’s  arrow 

Shot  from  the  eastern  window,  high  in  air 

The  clamorous  cranes  go  singing  through  the  night. 

0  ye  mysterious  pilgrims  of  the  air, 

Would  I  had  wings  that  I  might  follow  you ! 

I  look  forth  from  these  mountains,  and  behold 
The  omnipotent  and  omnipresent  night, 

Mysterious  as  the  future  and  the  fate 

That  hangs  o’er  all  men’s  lives  !  I  see  beneath  me 

The  desert  stretching  to  the  Dead  Sea  shore, 

And  westward,  faint  and  far  away,  the  glimmer 
Of  torches  on  Mount  Olivet,  announcing 
The  rising  of  the  Moon  of  Passover. 

Like  a  great  cross  it  seems,  on  which  suspended, 

With  head  bowed  down  in  agony,  I  see 
A  human  figure  !  Hide,  0  merciful  heaven, 

The  awful  apparition  from  my  sight ! 

And  thou,  Machterus,  lifting  high  and  black 
Thy  dreadful  walls  against  the  rising  moon, 

.324 


SALOME, ;  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERO  DIAS. 

Haunted  bj  demons  and  by  apparitions, 

Lilith,  and  Jezerliara,  and  Bedargon, 

How  grim  thou  showest  in  the  uncertain  light, 

A  palace  and  a  prison,  where  King  Herod 
Feasts  with  Herodias,  while  the  Baptist  John 
Fasts,  and  consumes  his  unavailing  life  ! 

And  in  thy  court-yard  grows  the  untithed  rue, 

Huge  as  the  olives  of  Gethsemane, 

And  ancient  as  the  terebinth  of  Hebron, 

Coeval  with  the  world.  Would  that  its  leaves 
Medicinal  could  purge  thee  of  the  demons 
That  now  possess  thee,  and  the  cunning  fox 
That  burrows  in  thy  walls,  contriving  mischief! 

Music  is  heard  from  within. 

Angels  of  God  !  Sandalphon,  thou  that  weavest 
The  prayers  of  men  into  immortal  garlands, 

And  thou,  Metatrou,  who  dost  gather  up 

Their  songs,  and  bear  them  to  the  gates  of  heaven, 

Now  gather  up  together  in  your  hands 

The  prayers  that  fill  this  prison,  and  the  songs 

That  echo  from  the  ceiling  of  this  palace, 

And  lay  them  side  by  side  before  God’s  feet ! 

He  enters  the  castle. 


II.  HEROD’S  BANQUET-HALL. 
Manahem. 

Thou  hast  sent  for  me,  0  King,  and  I  am  here. 
Herod. 

Who  art  thou  ? 

Manahem. 

Manahem,  the  Essenian. 

Herod. 

I  recognize  thy  features,  but  what  mean 
These  tom  and  faded  garments  ?  On  thy  road 

325 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


Have  demons  crowded  thee,  and  rubbed  against  thee, 
And  given  thee  weary  knees  ?  A  cup  of  wine  ! 

Manahem. 

The  Essenians  drink  no  wine. 

Herod. 

What  wilt  thou,  then  ? 


Nothing. 


Manahem. 

Herod. 


Not  even  a  cup  of  water  ? 


Manahem. 

Why  hast  thou  sent  for  me  ? 


Nothing. 


Herod. 

Dost  thou  remember 

One  day  when  I,  a  school-boy  in  the  streets 
Of  the  great  city,  met  thee  on  my  way 
To  school,  and  thou  didst  say  to  me  :  Hereafter 
Thou  shalt  be  King  ? 


Manahem. 

Yea,  I  remember  it. 

Herod. 

Thinking  thou  didst  not  know  me,  I  replied  : 

I  am  of  humble  birth  ;  whereat,  thou,  smiling, 
Didst  smite  me  with  thy  hand,  and  saidst  again  : 
Thou  shalt  be  King ;  and  let  the  friendly  blows 
That  Manahem  hath  given  thee  on  this  day 
Remind  thee  of  the  fickleness  of  fortune. 

Manahem. 


What  more  ? 


326 


SALOME ;  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERO  DIAS. 
Herod. 

No  more. 

Manahem. 

Yea,  for  I  said  to  thee : 

It  shall  be  well  with  thee  if  thou  love  justice 
And  clemency  towards  thy  fellow-men. 

Hast  thou  done  this,  0  King  ? 

Herod. 

Go,  ask  my  people. 

Manahem. 

And  then,  foreseeing  all  thy  life,  I  added : 

But  these  thou  wilt  forget ;  and  at  the  end 
Of  life  the  Lord  will  punish  thee. 

Herod. 

The  end  ! 

When  will  that  come  ?  For  this  I  sent  to  thee. 

How  long  shall  I  still  reign  ?  Thou  dost  not  answer ! 
Speak  !  shall  I  reign  ten  years  ? 

Manahem. 

Thou  shalt  reign  twenty, 
Nay,  thirty  years.  I  cannot  name  the  end. 

Herod. 

Thirty  ?  I  thank  thee,  good  Essenian  ! 

This  is  my  birthday,  and  a  happier  one 
Was  never  mine.  We  hold  a  banquet  here. 

See,  yonder  arc  Herodias  and  her  daughter. 

Manahem,  aside. 

’T  is  said  that  devils  sometimes  take  the  shape 
Of  ministering  angels,  clothed  with  air, 

That  they  may  be  inhabitants  of  earth, 

And  lead  man  to  destruction.  Such  are  these. 

327 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 
Herod. 

Knowest*  thou  John  the  Baptist  ? 


Manahem. 


Who  knows  him  not  ? 


Yea,  I  know  him  ; 


Herod. 


Know,  then,  this  John  the  Baptist 
Said  that  it  was  not  lawful  I  should  marry 
My  brother  Philip’s  wife,  and  John  the  Baptist 
Is  here  in  prison.  In  my  father’s  time 
Matthias  Margaloth  was  put  to  death 
For  tearing  the  golden  eagle  from  its  station 
Above  the  Temple  Gate,  —  a  slighter  crime 
Than  John  is  guilty  of.  These  things  are  warnings 
To  intermeddlers  not  to  play  with  eagles, 

Living  or  dead.  I  think  the  Esseuians 
Are  wiser,  or  more  wary,  are  they  not  ? 

Manahem. 

The  Essenians  do  not  marry. 

Herod. 

Thou  hast  given 

My  words  a  meaning  foreign  to  my  thought. 

Manahem. 

Let  me  go  hence,  0  King ! 

Herod. 

Stay  yet  awhile, 

And  see  the  daughter  of  Herodias  dance. 

Cleopatra  of  Jerusalem,  my  mother, 

In  her  best  days  was  not  more  beautiful. 

Music.  The  Daughter  of  Herodias  dances. 

0,  what  was  Miriam  dancing  with  her  timbrel, 

Compared  to  this  one  ! 

328 


SALOME ;  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERO  DIAS. 

MANAHEM,  aside. 

O  thou  Angel  of  Death, 
Dancing  at  funerals  among  the  women, 

When  men  bear  out  the  dead  !  The  air  is  hot 
And  stifles  me  !  0  for  a  breath  of  air  ! 

Bid  me  depart,  0  King  ! 

Herod. 

Not  yet.  Come  hither, 
Salome,  thou  enchantress  !  Ask  of  me 
Whate’er  thou  wilt ;  and  even  unto  the  half 
Of  all  my  kingdom,  I  will  give  it  thee, 

As  the  Lord  liveth  ! 

Daughter  of  Herodias,  kneding. 

Give  me  here  the  head 
Of  John  the  Baptist  on  this  silver  charger  1 

Herod. 

Not  that,  dear  child  !  I  dare  not ;  for  the  people 
Regard  John  as  a  prophet. 

Daughter  of  Herodias. 

Thou  hast  sworn  it. 

Herod. 

For  mine  oath’s  sake,  then.  Send  unto  the  prison  ; 
Let  him  die  quickly.  0  accursed  oath  ! 

Manahem. 

Bid  me  depart,  O  King ! 

IIerod. 

Good  Manahem, 

Give  me  thy  hand.  1  love  the  Essenians. 

He ’s  gone  and  hears  me  not !  The  guests  are  dumb, 
Awaiting  the  pale  face,  the  silent  witness. 

329 


WOMAN  IJY  SAC  BED  MIS  TOBY. 


The  lamps  flare ;  and  the  curtains  of  the  doorways 
W  ave  to  and  fro  as  if  a  ghost  were  passing  ! 
Strengthen  my  heart,  red  wine  of  Ascalon  ! 


III.  UNDER  THE  WALLS  OF  MACHiERUS. 


MAN  AHEM,  rushing  out. 

Away  from  this  Palace  of  sin  ! 

The  demons,  the  terrible  powers 
Of  the  air,  that  haunt  its  towers 
And  hide  in  its  water-spouts, 

Deafen  me  with  the  din 
Of  their  laughter  and  their  shouts 
For  the  crimes  that  are  done  within  ! 

Sink  back  into  the  earth, 

Or  vanish  into  the  air, 

Thou  castle  of  despair  ! 

Let  it  all  be  but  a  dream 
Of  the  things  of  monstrous  birth, 

Of  the  things  that  only  seem  ! 

White  Angel  of  the  Moon, 

Onafiel  !  be  my  guide 
Out  of  this  hateful  place 
Of  sin  and  death,  nor  hide 
In  yon  black  cloud  too  soon 
Thy  pale  and  tranquil  face  ! 

A  trumpet  is  blown  from  the  walls. 

Hark  !  hark  !  It  is  the  breath 
Of  the  trump  of  doom  and  death, 
From  the  battlements  overhead 
Like  a  burden  of  sorrow  cast 
On  the  midnight  and  the  blast, 

A  wailing  for  the  dead, 

That  the  gusts  drop  and  uplift ! 

0  Herod,  thy  vengeance  is  swift ! 

0  Herodias,  thou  hast  been 
The  demon,  the  evil  thing, 

330 


SALOME |  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERO  DIAS. 

That  in  place  of  Esther  the  Queen, 

In  place  of  the  lawful  bride, 

Hast  lain  at  night  by  the  side 
Of  Ahasuerus  the  king  ! 

The  trumpet  again. 

The  Prophet  of  God  is  dead ! 

At  a  drunken  monarch’s  call, 

At  a  dancing-woman’s  beck, 

They  have  severed  that  stubborn  neck, 

And  into  the  banquet-hall 
Are  bearing  the  ghastly  head  ! 

A  body  is  thrown  from  the  tower. 

A  torch  of  lurid  red 

Lights  the  window  with  its  glow ; 

And  a  white  mass  as  of  snow 
Is  liurled  into  the  abyss 
Of  the  black  precipice, 

That  yawns  for  it  below  ! 

O  hand  of  the  Most  High, 

0  hand  of  Adonai ! 

Bury  it,  hide  it  away 

From  the  birds  and  beasts  of  prey, 

And  the  eyes  of  the  homicide, 

More  pitiless  than  they, 

As  thou  didst  bury  of  yore 
The  body  of  him  that  died 
On  the  mountain  of  Peor ! 

Even  now  I  behold  a  sign, 

A  threatening  of  wrath  divine, 

A  watery,  wandering  star, 

Through  whose  streaming  hair,  and  the  white 
Unfolding  garments  of  light, 

That  trail  behind  it  afar, 

The  constellations  shine  ! 

And  the  whiteness  and  brightness  appear 
Like  the  Angel  bearing  the  Seer 
By  the  hair  of  his  head,  in  the  might 
And  rush  of  his  vehement  flight. 

331 


WOMAN  IX  SA CUED  HISTORY. 

And  I  listen  until  I  hear 
From  fathomless  depths  of  the  sky 
The  voice  of  his  prophecy 
Sounding  louder  and  more  near  ! 

Malediction  !  malediction  ! 

May  the  lightnings  of  heaven  fall 
On  palace  and  prison  Avail, 

And  their  desolation  be 

As  the  day  of  fear  and  affliction, 

As  the  day  of  anguish  and  ire, 

With  the  burning  and  fuel  of  fire, 

In  the  Valley  of  the  Sea  ! 

From  the  “Divine  Tragedy,”  by  E.  IF.  Longfellow. 

332 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  HERODI AS. 


Hath  left  upon  my  soul  its  living  trace, 

Never  to  pass  away, — 

Since  from  these  lips  one  word  of  idle  breath 
Blanched  that  calm  face  ;  0  mother,  this  is  death  ! 

What  is  it  that  I  see 

From  all  the  pure  and  settled  features  gleaming  ? 
Reproach  !  reproach  !  My  dreams  are  strange  and  wild  ; 
Mother !  hadst  thou  no  pity  on  thy  child  ? 

Lo  !  a  celestial  smile  seems  softly  beaming 
On  the  hushed  lips,  —  my  mother,  canst  thou  brook 
Longer  upon  thy  victim’s  face  to  look  ? 

Alas  !  at  yestennorn 

My  heart  was  light,  and  to  the  viol’s  sound 
I  gayly  danced,  while  crowned  with  summer  flowers, 
And  swiftly  by  me  sped  the  flying  hours, 

And  all  was  joy  around  : 

Not  death  !  0  mother,  could  I  say  thee  nay  ? 

Take  from  thy  daughter’s  hand  thy  boon  away  ! 

Take  it !  my  heart  is  sad, 

And  the  pure  forehead  hath  an  icy  chill  ; 

I  dare  not  touch  it,  for  avenging  Heaven 
Hath  shuddering  visions  to  my  fancy  given, 

And  the  pale  face  appalls  me,  cold  and  still, 

With  the  closed  lips.  0,  tell  me,  could  I  know 
That  the  pale  features  of  the  dead  were  so  ? 

333 


OTHER  !  I  bring  thy  gift ; 

Take  from  my  hand  the  dreaded  boon,  I  pray ! 
Take  it ;  the  still,  pale  sorrow  of  the  face 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

I  may  not  turn  away 

From  the  charmed  face ;  and  I  have  heard  his  name 
Even  as  a  prophet  by  his  people  spoken. 

And  that  high  brow,  in  death,  bears  seal  and  token 
Of  one  whose  words  were  flame  : 

0  holy  teacher !  couldst  thou  rise  and  live, 

Would  not  these  hushed  lips  whisper,  “  I  forgive  ”  ? 


Away  with  lute  and  harp, 

With  the  glad  heart  forever,  and  the  dance  ! 
Never  again  shall  tabret  sound  for  me  ! 

O  fearful  mother  !  I  have  brought  to  thee 
The  silent  dead,  with  his  rebuking  glance, 

And  the  crushed  heart  of  one  to  whom  are  given 
Wild  dreams  of  judgment  and  offended  Heaven. 


334 


Lucy  Hooper. 


MARTHA  AND  MARY. 


Boulanger,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


MARTHA  AND  MARY. 

HE  dramatic  power  of  the  brief  Bible  narratives  is 
one  of  their  most  wonderful  characteristics.  By  a 
few  incidents,  a  word  here  and  there,  they  create  a 
vivid  image  of  a  personality  that  afterwards  never 
dies  from  our  memory.  The  women  of  Shakespeare  have  been 
set  upon  the  stage  with  all  the  accessories  of  dress,  scenery, 
and  the  interpreting  power  of  fine  acting,  and  yet  the  vivid¬ 
ness  of  their  personality  has  not  been  equal  to  that  of  the  women 
of  the  Bible. 

Mary  and  Martha,  the  two  sisters  of  Bethany,  have  had  for 
ages  a  name  and  a  living  power  in  the  Church.  Thousands 
of  hearts  have  throbbed  with  theirs ;  thousands  have  wept  sym¬ 
pathetic  tears  in  their  sorrows  and  rejoiced  in  their  joy.  By  a 
few  simple  touches  in  the  narrative  they  are  so  delicately  and 
justly  discriminated  that  they  stand  for  the  representatives  of 
two  distinct  classes.  Some  of  the  ancient  Christian  writers 
considered  them  as  types  of  the  active  and  the  contemplative 
aspects  of  religion.  Martha  is  viewed  as  the  secular  Christian, 
serving  God  in  and  through  the  channels  of  worldly  business, 
and  Mary  as  the  more  peculiarly  religious  person,  devoted  to 
a  life  of  holy  meditation  and  the  researches  of  heavenly  truth. 
The  two  were  equally  the  friends  of  Jesus.  Apparently,  the 
two  sisters  with  one  brother  were  an  orphan  family,  united  by 
the  strongest  mutual  affection,  and  affording  a  circle  peculiarly 
congenial  to  the  Master. 

They  inhabited  a  rural  home  just  outside  of  Jerusalem ; 
and  it  seems  that  here,  after  the  labors  of  a  day  spent  in 
teaching  in  the  city,  our  Lord  found  at  evening  a  home-like 
retreat  where  he  could  enjoy  perfect  quiet  and  perfect  love. 
It  would  seem,  from  many  touches  in  the  Gospel  narrative,  as 

335 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


if  Jesus,  amid  the  labors  and  applauses  and  successes  of  a 
public  life,  yearned  for  privacy  and  domesticity,  —  for  that 
home  love  which  he  persistently  renounced,  to  give  himself 
wholly  to  mankind.  There  is  a  shade  of  pathos  in  his  answer 
to  one  who  proposed  to  be  his  disciple  and  dwell  with  him : 
“Foxes  have  holes;  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests;  but  the 
Son  of  Man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head.”  This  little  or¬ 
phan  circle,  with  their  quiet  home,  were  thus  especially  dear 
to  him,  and  it  appears  that  this  was  his  refuge  during  that  last 
week  of  his  life,  when  he  knew  that  every  day  was  bringing 
him  nearer  to  the  final  anguish. 

It  is  wonderful  how  sharply  and  truly,  in  a  narrative  so 
brief,  the  characters  of  Martha  and  Mary  are  individualized. 
Martha,  in  her  Judas  an  dress  and  surroundings,  is,  after  all, 
exactly  such  a  good  woman  as  is  often  seen  in  our  modern 
life,  —  a  woman  primarily  endowed  with  the  faculties  necessary 
for  getting  on  in  the  world,  yet  sincerely  religious.  She  is 
energetic,  business-like,  matter-of-fact,  strictly  orthodox,  and 
always  ready  for  every  emergency.  She  lives  in  the  present 
life  strongly  and  intensely,  and  her  religion  exhibits  itself 
through  regular  forms  and  agencies.  She  believes  in  the  future 
life  orthodoxly,  and  is  always  prompt  to  confess  its  superior 
importance  as  a  matter  of  doctrine,  though  prone  to  make 
material  things  the  first  in  practice.  Many  such  women  there 
are  in  the  high  places  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  much 
g'ood  they  do.  They  manage  fairs,  they  dress  churches,  they 
get  up  religious  festivals,  their  names  are  on  committees,  they 
are  known  at  celebrations.  They  rule  their  own  homes  with 
activity  and  diligence,  and  they  are  justly  honored  by  all  who 
know  them.  Now,  nothing  is  more  remarkable  in  the  history 
of  Jesus  than  the  catholicity  of  his  appreciation  of  character. 
He  never  found  fault  with  natural  organization,  or  expected 
all  people  to  be  of  one  pattern.  He  did  not  break  with 
Thomas  for  being  naturally  a  cautious  doubter,  or  Peter  for 
being  a  precipitate  believer;  and  it  is  specially  recorded  in 
the  history  of  this  family  that  Jesus  loved  Martha.  He  un¬ 
derstood  her,  he  appreciated  her  worth,  and  he  loved  her. 

336 


MARTHA  AND  MARY. 

In  Mary  we  see  the  type  of  those  deeper  and  more  sensi¬ 
tive  natures  who  ever  aspire  above  and  beyond  the  material 
and  temporal  to  the  eternal  and  divine  ;  souls  that  are  seeking 
and  inquiring  with  a  restlessness  that  no  earthly  thing  can 
satisfy,  who  can  find  no  peace  until  they  find  it  in  union  with 
God. 

In  St.  Luke  we  have  a  record  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
first  acquaintance  with  this  family  was  formed.  This  historian 
says:  “A  woman  named  Martha  received  him  at  her  house.” 
Evidently  the  decisive  and  salient  power  of  her  nature  caused 
her  to  be  regarded  as  mistress  of  the  family.  There  was  a 
grown-up  brother  in  the  family ;  but  this  house  is  not  called 
the  house  of  Lazarus,  but  the  house  of  Martha,  —  a  form  of 
speaking  the  more  remarkable  from  the  great  superiority  or 
leadership  which  ancient  customs  awarded  to  the  male  sex. 
But  Martha  was  one  of  those  natural  leaders  whom  everybody 
instinctively  thinks  of  as  the  head  of  any  house  they  may 
happen  to  belong  to.  Her  tone  toward  Mary  is  authoritative. 
The  Mary-nature  is  a  nature  apt  to  appear  to  disadvantage  in 
physical  things.  It  is  often  puzzled,  and  unskilled,  and  un¬ 
ready  in  the  details  and  emergencies  of  a  life  like  ours,  which 
so  little  meets  its  deepest  feelings  and  most  importunate  wants. 
It  acquires  skill  in  earthly  things  only  as  a  matter  of  disci¬ 
pline  and  conscience,  but  is  always  yearning  above  them  to 
something  higher  and  divine.  A  delicacy  of  moral  nature  sug¬ 
gests  to  such  a  person  a  thousand  scruples  of  conscientious 
inquiry  in  every  turn  of  life,  which  embarrass  directness  of 
action.  To  the  Martha-nature,  practical,  direct,  and  prosaic, 
all  these  doubts,  scruples,  hesitations,  and  unreadinesses  appear 
only  as  pitiable  weaknesses. 

Again,  Martha’s  nature  attaches  a  vast  importance  to  many 
things  which,  in  the  view  of  Mary,  are  so  fleeting  and  perish¬ 
able,  and  have  so  little  to  do  with  the  deeper  immortal  wants 
of  the  soul,  that  it  is  difficult  for  her  even  to  remember  and 
keep  them  in  sight.  The  requirements  of  etiquette,  the  changes 
and  details  of  fashion,  the  thousand  particulars  which  pertain 
to  keeping  up  a  certain  footing  in  society  and  a  certain  posi- 

337 


WOMAX  IX  SACBEV  HIS  TO  BY. 


tion  in  the  world,  —  all  these  Martha  has  at  her  fingers’  ends. 
They  are  the  breath  of  her  nostrils,  while  Mary  is  always  for¬ 
getting',  overlooking,  and  transgressing  them.  Many  a  Mary 
has  escaped  into  a  convent,  or  joined  a  sisterhood,  or  worn 
the  plain  dress  of  the  Quaker,  in  order  that  she  might  escape 
from  the  exaction  of  the  Marthas  of  her  day,  11  careful  [or, 
more  literally,  full  of  care ]  and  troubled  about  many  things.” 

It  appears  that  in  her  way  Martha  was  a  religious  woman, 
a  sincere  member  of  the  Jewish  Church,  and  an  intense  be¬ 
liever.  The  preaching  of  Christ  was  the  great  religious  phe¬ 
nomenon  of  the  times,  and  Martha,  Mary,  and  Lazarus  joined 
the  crowd  who  witnessed  his  miracles  and  listened  to  his 
words.  Both  women  accepted  his  message  and  believed  his 
Messiahsliip,  —  Martha,  from  the  witness  of  his  splendid  mir¬ 
acles  ;  Mary,  from  the  deep  accord  of  her  heart  with  the  won¬ 
derful  words  he  had  uttered.  To  Martha  he  was  the  King 
that  should  reign  in  splendor  at  Jerusalem,  and  raise  their  na¬ 
tion  to  an  untold  height  of  glory ;  to  Mary  he  was  the  answer 
to  the  eternal  question, — the  Way,  the  Truth,  the  Life,  for 
which  she  had  been  always  longing. 

Among  many  who  urge  and  press  hospitality,  Martha’s  in¬ 
vitation  prevails.  A  proud  home  is  that,  when  Jesus  follows 
her,  —  her  prize,  her  captive.  The  woman  in  our  day  who 
has  captured  in  her  net  of  hospitalities  the  orator,  the  poet, 
the  warrior,  —  the  star  of  all  eyes,  the  central  point  of  all 
curiosity,  desire,  and  regard,  —  can  best  appreciate  Martha’s 
joy.  She  will  make  an  entertainment  that  will  do  credit  to 
the  occasion.  She  revolves  prodigies  of  hospitality.  She  in¬ 
vites  guests  to  whom  her  acquisition  shall  be  duly  exhibited, 
and  all  is  hurry,  bustle,  and  commotion.  But  Mary  follows 
him,  silent,  with  a  fluttering  heart.  His  teaching  has  aroused 
the  divine  longing,  the  immortal  pain,  to  a  throbbing  intensity ; 
a  sweet  presentiment  fills  her  soul,  that  she  is  near  One  through 
whom  the  way  into  the  Holiest  is  open,  and  now  is  the  hour. 
She  neither  hears  nor  sees  the  bustle  of  preparation ;  but 
apart,  where  the  Master  has  seated  himself,  she  sits  down  at 
his  feet,  and  her  eyes,  more  than  her  voice,  address  to  him 

3.38 


MARTHA  AND  MARY. 

that  question  and  that  prayer  which  are  the  question  and  the 
one  great  reality  of  all  this  fleeting,  mortal  life. 

The  question  is  answered ;  the  prayer  is  granted.  At  his 
feet  she  becomes  spiritually  clairvoyant.  The  way  to  God  be¬ 
comes  clear  and  open.  Her  soul  springs  toward  the  light ;  is 
embraced  by  the  peace  of  God,  that  passeth  understanding. 
It  is  a  soul-crisis,  and  the  Master  sees  that  in  that  hour  his 
breath  has  unfolded  into  blossom  buds  that  had  been  struggling 
in  darkness.  Mary  has  received  in  her  bosom  the  “  white 
stone  with  the  new  name,  which  no  man  knoweth  save  him 
that  receiveth  it,”  and  of  which  Jesus  only  is  the  giver.  As 
Master  and  disciple  sit  in  that  calm  and  sweet  accord,  in 
which  giver  and  receiver  are  alike  blessed,  suddenly  Martha 
appears  and  breaks  into  the  interview,  in  a  characteristically 
inqperative  sentence  :  “  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care  that  my  sister 
hath  left  me  to  serve  alone  ?  Bid  her,  therefore,  that  she 
help  me.” 

Nothing  could  more  energetically  indicate  Martha’s  character 
than  this  sentence.  It  shows  her  blunt  sincerity,  her  conscien¬ 
tious,  matter-of-fact  worldliness,  and  her  dictatorial  positiveness. 
Evidently,  here  is  a  person  accustomed  to  having  her  own 
way  and  bearing  down  all  about  her ;  a  person  who  believes 
in  herself  without  a  doubt,  and  is  so  positive  that  her  way  is 
the  only  right  one  that  she  cannot  but  be  amazed  that  the 
Master  has  not  at  once  seen  as  she  does.  To  be  sure,  this  is 
in  her  view  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  the  King  of  Israel, 
the  human  being  whom  in  her  deepest  heart  she  reverences  ; 
but  no  matter,  she  is  so  positive  that  she  is  right  that  she 
does  not  hesitate  to  say  her  say,  and  make  her  complaint  of 
him  as  well  as  of  her  sister.  People  like  Martha  often  arraign 
and  question  the  very  Providence  of  God  itself  when  it  stands 
in  the  way  of  their  own  plans.  Martha  is  sure  of  her  ground. 
Here  is  the  Messiah,  the  King  of  Israel,  at  her  house,  and  she 
is  getting  up  an  entertainment  worthy  of  him,  slaving  herself 
to  death  for  him,  and  he  takes  no  notice,  and  most  inconsid¬ 
erately  allows  her  dreamy  sister  to  sit  listening  to  him,  instead 
of  joining  in  the  preparation. 

339 


WOMAN’  m  SACRED  HISTORY. 


The  reply  of  Jesus  went,  as  his  replies  were  wont  to  do, 
to  the  very  root-fault  of  Martha’s  life,  the  fault  of  all  such 
natures :  “  Martha,  Martha !  thou  art  careful  and  troubled 

about  many  things,  but  one  thing  is  needful,  and  Mary  hath 
chosen  that  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  from  her.” 
The  Master’s  words  evidently  recognize  that  in  that  critical 
hour  Mary  had  passed  a  boundary  in  her  soul  history,  and 
made  an  attainment  of  priceless  value.  She  had  gained  some¬ 
thing  that  could  never  be  taken  from  her ;  and  she  had  gained 
it  by  that  single-hearted  devotion  to  spiritual  things  which 
made  her  prompt  to  know  and  seize  the  hour  of  opportunity. 

The  brief  narrative  there  intermits ;  we  are  not  told  how 
Martha  replied,  or  what  are  the  results  of  this  plain,  tender 
faithfulness  of  reproof.  The  Saviour,  be  it  observed,  did  not 
blame  Martha  for  her  nature.  He  did  not  blame  her  for  not 
being'  Mary ;  but  he  did  blame  her  for  not  restraining  and 
governing-  her  own  nature  and  keeping  it  in  due  subjection  to 
higher  considerations.  A  being  of  brighter  worlds,  he  stood 
looking-  on  Martha’s  life, — on  her  activities  and  bustle  and 
care  ;  and  to  him  how  sorrowfully  worthless  the  greater  part 
of  them  appeared  !  To  him  they  were  mere  toys  and  play¬ 
things,  such  as  a  child  is  allowed  to  play  with  in  the  earlier, 
undeveloped  hours  of  existence  ;  not  to  be  harshly  condemned, 
but  still  utterly  fleeting  and  worthless  in  the  face  of  the  tre¬ 
mendous  eternal  realities,  the  glories  and  the  dangers  of  the 
eternal  state. 

It  must  be  said  here  that  all  we  know  of  our  Lord  leads 
us  to  feel  that  he  was  not  encouraging  and  defending  in  Mary 
a  selfish,  sentimental  indulgence  in  her  own  cherished  emotions 
and  affections,  leaving  the  burden  of  necessary  care  on  a  sister 
who  would  have  been  equally  glad  to  sit  at  Jesus’s  feet.  That 
was  not  his  reading  of  the  situation.  It  was  that  Martha,  en¬ 
grossed  in  a  thousand  cares,  burdened  herself  with  a  weight 
of  perplexities  of  which  there  was  no  need,  and  found  no 
time  and  had  no  heart  to  come  to  him  and  speak  of  the  only , 
the  one  thing  that  endures  beyond  the  present  world.  To  how 
many  hearts  does  this  reproof  apply  ?  How  many  who  call 

340 


MARTHA  AND  MARY. 

themselves  Christians  are  weary,  wasted,  worn,  drained  of  life, 
injured  in  health,  fretted  in  temper,  by  a  class  of  anxieties  so 
purely  worldly  that  they  can  never  bring  them  to  Jesus,  or 
if  they  do,  would  meet  first  and  foremost  his  tender  reproof, 
“  Thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things  ;  there  is 
but  one  thing  really  needful.  Seek  that  good  part  which  shall 
never  be  taken  away.” 

What  fruit  this  rebuke  bore  will  appear  as  we  further  pur¬ 
sue  the  history  of  the  sister.  The  subsequent  story  shows 
that  Martha  was  a  brave,  sincere,  good  woman,  capable  of 
yielding  to  reproof  and  acknowledging  a  fault.  There  is  pre¬ 
cious  material  in  such,  if  only  their  powers  be  turned  to  the 
highest  and  best  things. 

It  is  an  interesting  thought  that  the  human  affection  of  Jesus 
for  one  family  has  been  made  the  means  of  leaving  on  record 
the  most  consoling  experience  for  the  sorrows  of  bereavement 
that  sacred  literature  affords.  Viewed  merely  on  the  natural 
side,  the  intensity  of  human  affections  and  the  frightful  possi¬ 
bilities  of  suffering  involved  in  their  very  sweetness  present  a 
fearful  prospect  when  compared  with  that  stony  inflexibility 
of  natural  law,  which  goes  forth  crushing,  bruising,  lacerating, 
without  the  least  apparent  feeling  for  human  agony. 

The  God  of  nature  appears  silent,  unalterable,  •  unsympa¬ 
thetic,  pursuing  general  good  without  a  throb  of  pity  for  indi¬ 
vidual  suffering ;  and  that  suffering  is  so  unspeakable,  so 
terrible  !  Close  shadowing  every  bridal,  every  cradle,  is  this 
awful  possibility  of  death  that  may  come  at  any  moment,  un¬ 
announced  and  inevitable.  The  joy  of  this  hour  may  become 
the  bitterness  of  the  next ;  the  ring,  the  curl  of  hair,  the 
locket,  the  picture,  that  to-day  are  a  treasure  of  hope  and 
happiness,  to-morrow  may  be  only  weapons  of  bitterness  that 
stab  at  every  view.  The  silent  inflexibility  of  God  in  uphold¬ 
ing  laws  that  work  out  such  terrible  agonies  and  suffering  is 
something  against  which  the  human  heart  moans  and  chafes 
through  all  ancient  literature.  “  The  gods  envy  the  happy,  ’ 
was  the  construction  put  upon  the  problem  of  life  as  the  old 
sages  viewed  it. 


WOMAN  IjY  SACKED  HISTORY. 


But  in  this  second  scene  of  the  story  of  the  sisters  of  Beth¬ 
any  we  have  that  view  of  God  which  is  the  only  one  powerful 
enough  to  soothe  and  control  the  despair  of  the  stricken  heart. 
It  savs  to  ns  that  behind  this  seeming  inflexibility,  this  mighty 
and  most  needful  upholding  of  law,  is  a  throbbing,  sympathiz¬ 
ing  heart,  —  bearing  with  us  the  sorrow  of  this  struggling  period 
of  existence,  and  pointing  to  a  perfect  fulfillment  in  the  future. 

The  story  opens  most  remarkably.  In  the  absence  of  the 
Master,  the  brother  is  stricken  down  with  deadly  disease. 
Forthwith  a  hasty  messenger  is  dispatched  to  Jesus.  “Lord, 
he  whom  thou  lovest  is  sick.”  Here  is  no  prayer  expressed; 
but  human  language  could  not  be  more  full  of  all  the  elements 
of  the  best  kind  of  prayer.  It  is  the  prayer  of  perfect  trust, — 
the  prayer  of  love  that  has  no  shadow  of  doubt.  If  only  we 
let  Jesus  know  we  are  in  trouble,  we  are  helped.  We  need 
not  ask,  we  need  only  say,  “  He  whom  thou  lovest  is  sick,” 
and  he  will  understand,  and  the  work  will  be  done.  We  are 
safe  with  him. 

Then  comes  the  seeming  contradiction  —  the  trial  of  faith  — 
that  gives  this  story  such  a  value:  “Now  Jesus  loved  Martha 
and  her  sister  and  Lazarus.  When,  therefore ,  he  heard  that 
he  was  sick,  he  abode  two  days  in  the  same  place  where  he 
was.”  Because  he  loved  them,  he  delayed  ;  because  he  loved 
them,  he  resisted  that  most  touching  appeal  that  heart  can 
make, — the  appeal  of  utter  trust.  We  can  imagine  the  won¬ 
der,  the  anguish,  the  conflict  of  spirit,  when  death  at  last  shut 
the  door  in  the  face  of  their  prayers.  Had  God  forgotten  to 
be  gracious  ?  Had  lie  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mercy  ? 
Did  not  Jesus  love  them?  Had  he  not  power  to  heal?  Why 
then  had  he  suffered  this  ?  Ah  !  this  is  exactly  the  strait  in 
which  thousands  of  Christ’s  own  beloved  ones  must  stand  in 
the  future ;  and  Mary  and  Martha,  unconsciously  to  them¬ 
selves,  were  suffering  with  Christ  in  the  great  work  of  human 
consolation.  Their  distress  and  anguish  and  sorrow  were  neces¬ 
sary  to  work  out  a  great  experience  of  God’s  love,  where 
multitudes  of  anguished  hearts  have  laid  themselves  down  as 
on  a  pillow  of  repose,  and  have  been  comforted. 


MARTHA  AND  MARY 

Something  of  this  is  shadowed  in  the  Master’s  words  :  “  This 
sickness  is  not  unto  death,  but  for  the  glory  of  God,  —  that 
the  Son  of  God  might  be  glorified  thereby.”  What  was  that 
glory  of  God?  Not  most  his  natural  power,  but  his  sym¬ 
pathetic  tenderness,  his  loving  heart.  What  is  the  glory  of  the 
Son  of  God?  Not  the  mere  display  of  power,  but  power  used 
to  console,  in  manifesting  to  the  world  that  this  cruel  death  — 
the  shadow  that  haunts  all  human  life,  that  appalls  and  terri¬ 
fies,  that  scatters  anguish  and  despair  —  is  not  death,  but  the 
gateway  of  a  brighter  life,  in  which  Jesus  shall  restore  love 
to  love,  in  eternal  reunion. 

In  the  scene  with  the  sisters  before  the  Saviour  arrives,  we 
are  struck  with  the  consideration  in  which  the  family  is  held. 
This  house  is  thronged  with  sympathizing  friends,  and,  as  ap¬ 
pears  from  some  incidents  afterwards,  friends  among  the  higher 
classes  of  the  nation.  Martha  hears  of  the  approach  of  Jesus, 
and  goes  forth  to  meet  him. 

In  all  the  scene  which  follows  we  are  impressed  with  the 
dignity  and  worth  of  Martha’s  character.  We  see  in  the  scene 
of  sorrow  that  Martha  has  been  the  strong,  practical  woman, 
on  whom  all  rely  in  the  hour  of  sickness,  and  whose  energy 
is  equal  to  any  emergency.  We  see  her  unsubdued  by  emo¬ 
tion,  ready  to  go  forth  to  receive  Jesus,  and  prompt  to  meet 
the  issues  of  the  moment.  We  see,  too,  that  the  appreciation 
of  the  worth  of  her  character,  which  had  led  him  to  admonish 
her  against  the  materialistic  tendencies  of  such  a  nature,  was 
justified  by  the  fruits  of  that  rebuke.  Martha  had  grown 
more  spiritual  by  intercourse  with  the  Master,  and  as  she  falls 
at  Jesus’s  feet,  the  half-complaint  which  her  sorrow  wrings 
from  her  is  here  merged  in  the  expression  of  her  faith : 
“Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here  my  brother  had  not  died;  but 
I  know  that  even  now,  whatsoever  thou  wilt  ask  of  God,  God 
will  give  it  to  thee.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Thy  brother  shall 
rise  again.”  Like  every  well-trained  religious  Jew  of  her  day, 
Martha  was  versed  in  the  doctrine  of  the  general  resurrection. 
That  this  belief  was  a  more  actively  operating  motive  with 
the  ancient  Jewish  than  with  the  modern  Christian  Church  of 

343 


WOMAN  IX  S ACHED  HIS  TOBY. 


our  day,  is  attested  by  the  affecting  history  of  the  martyrdom 
of  the  mother  and  her  seven  sons  in  the  Book  of  Maccabees. 
Martha  therefore  makes  prompt  answer,  “  I  know  that  he  shall 
rise  again  in  the  resurrection  at  the  last  day.”  Jesus  answered 
her  in  words  which  no  mere  mortal  could  have  uttered,  — 
words  of  a  divine  fullness  of  meaning,  —  “I  am  the  Resurrec¬ 
tion  and  the  Life :  he  that  believeth  in  me,  though  dead,  shall 
live,  and  whosoever  believeth  in  me  is  immortal.” 

In  these  words  he  claims  to  be  the  great  source  of  Life,  — 
the  absolute  Lord  and  Controller  of  all  that  relates  to  life, 
death,  and  eternity ;  and  he  makes  the  appeal  to  Martha’s 
faith:  “Believest  thou  this?”  “Yea,  Lord,”  she  responds,  “I 
believe  thou  art  the  Christ  of  God  that  should  come  into  the 
world.”  And  then  she  runs  and  calls  her  sister  secretly,  say¬ 
ing,  “  The  Master  is  come  and  calletli  for  thee.”  As  a  majes¬ 
tic  symphony  modulates  into  a  tender  and  pathetic  minor 
passage,  so  the  tone  of  the  narrative  here  changes  to  the  most 
exquisite  pathos.  Mary,  attended  by  her  weeping  friends, 
comes  and  falls  at  Jesus’s  feet,  and  sobs  out:  “Lord,  if  thou 
hadst  been  here  my  brother  had  not  died !  ” 

It  indicates  the  delicate  sense  of  character  which  ever  marked 
the  intercourse  of  our  Lord,  that  to  this  helpless,  heart-broken 
child  prostrate  at  his  feet  he  addresses  no  appeal  to  reason  or 
faith.  He  felt  within  himself  the  overwhelming  power  of  that 
tide  of  emotion  which  for  the  time  bore  down  both  reason  and 
faith  in  helpless  anguish.  With  such  sorrow  there  was  no 
arguing,  and  Jesus  did  not  attempt  argument;  for  the  story 
goes  on:  “When  Jesus  saw  her  weeping,  and  the  Jews  also 
weeping  that  came  with  her,  he  groaned  in  spirit  and  was 
troubled ;  and  he  said,  Where  have  ye  laid  him  ?  And  they 
said,  Lord,  come  and  see.  Jesus  wept.”  Those  tears  inter¬ 
preted  for  all  time  God’s  silence  and  apparent  indifference  to 
human  suffering ;  and  wherever  Christ  is  worshiped  as  the 
brightness  of  the  Father’s  glory  and  the  express  image  of  his 
person,  they  bear  witness  that  the  God  who  upholds  the  laws 
that  wound  and  divide  human  affections  still  feels  with  us  the 
sorrow  which  he  permits.  “  In  all  our  afflictions  he  is  afflicted.” 


MARTHA  AND  MARY 

And  now  came  tlie  sublime  and  solemn  scene  when  he  who 
had  claimed  to  be  Resurrection  and  Life  made  good  his  claim. 
Standing  by  the  grave  he  called,  as  he  shall  one  day  call  to 
all  the  dead :  “  Lazarus,  come  forth !  ”  And  here  the  curtain 
drops  over  the  scene  of  restoration. 

We  do  not  see  this  family  circle  again  till  just  before  the 
final  scene  of  the  great  tragedy  of  Christ’s  life.  The  hour  was 
at  hand,  of  suffering,  betrayal,  rejection,  denial,  shame,  agony, 
and  death  ;  and  with  the  shadow  of  this  awful  cloud  over  his 
mind,  Jesus  comes  for  the  last  time  to  Jerusalem.  To  the  eye 
of  the  thoughtless,  Jesus  was  never  so  popular,  so  beloved,  as 
at  the  moment  when  he  entered  the  last  week  of  his  life  at 
Jerusalem.  Palm  branches  and  flowers  strewed  his  way,  ho¬ 
sannas  greeted  him  on  every  side,  and  the  chief-priests  and 
scribes  said,  u  Perceive  ye  Iioav  ye  prevail  nothing  ?  Behold 
the  world  is  gone  after  him  !  ”  But  the  mind  of  Jesus  was 
wrapped  in  that  awful  shade  of  the  events  that  were  so  soon 
to  follow. 

He  passes  out,  after  his  first  day  in  Jerusalem,  to  Bethany, 
and  takes  refuge  in  this  dear  circle.  There  they  make  him  a 

feast,  and  Martha  served,  but  Lazarus,  as  a  restored  treasure, 

sits  at  the  table.  Then  took  Mary  a  pound  of  ointment,  very 
precious,  and  anointed  the  head  of  Jesus,  and  anointed  his 
feet  with  the  ointment,  and  wiped  them  with  her  hair. 

There  is  something  in  the  action  that  marks  the  poetic  and 
sensitive  nature  of  Mary.  Her  heart  was  overburdened  with 
gratitude  and  love.  She  longed  to  give  something,  and  how 
little  was  there  that  she  could  give !  She  buys  the  most  rare, 

the  most  costly  of  perfumes,  breaks  the  vase,  and  sheds  it 

upon  his  head.  Could  she  have  put  her  whole  life,  her  whole 
existence,  into  that  fleeting  perfume  and  poured  it  out  for  him, 
she  gladly  would  have  done  it.  That  was  what  the  action 
said,  and  what  Jesus  understood.  Forthwith  comes  the  criti¬ 
cism  of  Judas :  “  What  a  waste  !  It  were  better  to  give  the 
money  to  the  poor  than  to  expend  it  in  mere  sentimentalism.” 
Jesus  defended  her  with  all  the  warmth  of  his  nature,  in  words 
tinged  with  the  presentiment  of  his  approaching  doom  :  “  Let 

345 


WOMAN  IN  S ACRED  HISTORY. 


her  alone ;  she  is  come  aforeliand  to  anoint  my  body  for  the 
burial.”  Then,  as  if  deeply  touched  with  the  reality  of  that 
love  which  thus  devoted  itself  to  him,  he  adds,  “Wheresoever 
this  Gospel  shall  be  preached  throughout  the  world,  there  shall 
what  this  woman  hath  done  be  had  in  remembrance.”  The  value 
set  upon  pure  love,  upon  that  unconsidering  devotion  which 
gives  its  best  and  utmost  freely  and  wholly,  is  expressed  in 
these  words.  A  loving  God  seeks  love ;  and  he  who  thus 
spoke  is  he  who  afterward,  when  he  appeared  in  glory,  de¬ 
clared  his  abhorrence  of  lukewarmness  in  his  followers :  “I 
would  thou  wert  cold  or  hot ;  because  thou  art  lukewarm  I 
will  spew  thee  out  of  my  mouth.”  It  is  significant  of  the 
change  which  had  passed  upon  Martha  that  no  criticism  of 
Mary’s  action  in  this  case  came  from  her.  There  might  have 
been  a  time  when  this  inconsiderate  devotion  of  a  poetic  nature 
woidd  have  annoyed  her  and  called  out  remonstrance.  In  her 
silence  we  feel  a  sympathetic  acquiescence. 

After  this  scene  we  meet  the  family  no  more.  Doubtless  the 
three  were  among  the  early  watchers  upon  the  resurrection 
morning :  —  doubtless  they  were  of  the  number  among  whom 
Jesus  stood  after  the  resurrection,  saying,  “  Peace  be  unto 
you  ” ;  —  doubtless  they  were  of  those  who  went  out  with  him 
to  the  Mount  of  Olives  when  he  was  taken  up  into  heaven ; 
and  doubtless  they  are  now  with  him  in  glory :  for  it  is  an 
affecting  thought  that  no  human  personality  is  ever  lost  or  to 
be  lost.  In  the  future  ages  it  may  be  our  happiness  to  see 
and  know  those  whose  history  has  touched  our  hearts  so 
deeply. 

One  lesson  from  this  history  we  pray  may  be  taken  into 
every  mourning  heart.  The  Apostle  says  that  Jesus  upholds 
all  things  by  the  word  of  his  power.  The  laws  by  which  ac¬ 
cident,  sickness,  loss,  and  death  are  constantly  bringing  despair 
and  sorrow  to  sensitive  hearts,  are  upheld  by  that  same  Jesus 
who  wept  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  who  is  declared  to  be 
Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday  and  forever.  When  we  see 
the  exceeding  preciousness  of  human  love  in  his  eyes,  and 
realize  his  sympathetic  nature,  and  then  remember  that  he  is 

346 


MARTHA  AND  MARY. 

Resurrection  and  Life,  can  we  not  trust  him  with  our  best 
beloved,  and  look  to  him  for  that  hour  of  reunion  which  he 
has  promised? 

The  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body  is  a  precious 
concession  to  human  weakness  and  human  love.  How  dear 
the  outward  form  of  our  child,  —  how  distressing  to  think  we 
shall  never  see  it  again  !  But  Christ  promises  we  shall.  Here 
is  a  mystery.  St.  Paul  says,  that  as  the  seed  buried  in  the 
earth  is  to  the  new  plant  or  flower,  so  is  our  present  mortal 
body  to  the  new  immortal  one  that  shall  spring  from  it.  It 
shall  be  our  friend,  our  child,  familiar  to  us  with  all  that 
mysterious  charm  of  personal  identity,  yet  clothed  with  the 
life  and  beautv  of  the  skies ;  and  then  the  Lord  God  will 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  alb  faces. 

347 


AT  BETHANY. 


Martha  busy  about  household  affairs.  Mary  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Christus. 

Martha. 

sitteth  idly  at  the  Master’s  feet, 
id  troubles  not  herself  with  household  cares, 
is  the  old  story.  When  a  guest  arrives 
She  gives  up  all  to  be  with  him ;  while  I 
Must  be  the  drudge,  make  ready  the  guest-chamber, 
Prepare  the  food,  set  everything  in  order, 

And  see  that  naught  is  wanting  in  the  house. 

She  shows  her  love  by  words,  and  I  by  works. 

Mary. 

0  Master !  when  thou  corniest,  it  is  always 
A  Sabbath  in  the  house.  I  cannot  work ; 

I  must  sit  at  thy  feet ;  must  see  thee,  hear  thee  ! 

I  have  a  feeble,  wayward,  doubting  heart, 

Incapable  of  endurance  or  great  thoughts, 

Striving  for  something  that  it  cannot  reach, 

Baffled  and  disappointed,  wounded,  hungry ; 

And  only  when  I  hear  thee  am  I  happy, 

And  only  when  I  see  thee  am  at  peace ! 

Stronger  than  I,  and  wiser,  and  far  better 
In  every  manner,  is  my  sister  Martha. 

You  see  how  well  she  orders  everything 
To  make  thee  welcome ;  how  she  comes  and  goes, 
Careful  and  cumbered  ever  with  much  serving, 

While  I  but  welcome  thee  with  foolish  words ! 

Whene’er  thou  speakest  to  me,  I  am  happy ; 

When  thou  art  silent,  I  am  satisfied. 

Thy  presence  is  enough.  I  ask  no  more. 

Only  to  be  with  thee,  only  to  see  thee, 

348 


AT  BETHANY. 

Sufficeth  me.  My  heart  is  then  at  rest. 

I  wonder  I  am  worthy  of  so  much. 

Martha. 

Lord,  dost  thou  care  not  that  my  sister  Mary 
Hath  left  me  thus  to  wait  on  thee  alone? 

I  pray  thee,  bid  her  help  me. 

Christus. 

Martha,  Martha, 

Careful  and  troubled  about  many  things 
Art  thou,  and  yet  one  thing  alone  is  needful ! 

Thy  sister  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part, 

Which  never  shall  be  taken  away  from  her ! 

From  the  “Divine  Tragedy,”  II.  W.  Longfellow. 
349 


THE  SISTERS  OF  BETHANY. 


MARTHA. 

ITH  joyful  pride  her  heart  is  high : 
Her  humble  chambers  hold 
The  Man  prophetic  destiny 
Long  centuries  hath  foretold. 


Poor,  is  he?  Yes,  and  lowly  born: 

Her  woman-soul  is  proud 
To  know  and  hail  the  coming  morn 
Before  the  eyeless  crowd. 


At  her  poor  table  will  he  eat? 

He  shall  be  served  there 
With  honor  and  devotion  meet 
For  any  king  that  were. 


’T  is  all  she  can ;  she  does  her  part, 
Profuse  in  sacrifice ; 

Nor  knows  that  in  her  unknown  heart 
A  better  offering  lies. 


But  many  crosses  she  must  bear; 

Her  plans  are  turned  and  bent ; 
Do  all  she  can,  things  will  not  wear 
The  form  of  her  intent. 


With  idle  hands,  and  drooping  lid, 
See  Mary  sit  at  rest ! 

Shameful  it  was  her  sister  did 
No  service  for  their  guest. 

350 


THE  SISTERS  OF  BETHANY. 

But  Martha  one  day  Mary’s  lot 
Must  share  with  hands  and  eyes  ; 

Must  —  all  her  household  cares  forgot  — 
Sit  down  as  idly  wise. 

Erelong  they  both  in  Jesus’  ear 
Shall  make  the  self-same  moan : 

“  Lord,  if  thou  only  hadst  been  here, 

My  brother  had  not  gone.” 

Then  once  will  Martha  set  her  word, 
Yet  once,  to  bar  his  ways, 

Crying,  “  By  this  he  stinketh,  Lord ; 

He  hath  been  dead  four  days.” 

When  Lazarus  drags  his  trammeled  clay 
Forth  with  half-opened  eyes, 

Her  buried  best  will  hear,  obey, 

And  with  the  dead  man  rise. 


MARY. 

She  sitteth  at  the  Master’s  feet 
In  motionless  employ ; 

Her  ears,  her  heart, — her  soul  complete 
Drinks  in  the  tide  of  joy. 

Ah !  who  but  her  the  glory  knows 
Of  life,  pure,  high,  intense, 

Whose  holy  calm  breeds  awful  shows 
Beyond  the  realm  of  sense  ! 

In  her  still  ear,  his  thoughts  of  grace 
Incarnate  are  in  voice  ; 

Her  thoughts,  the  people  of  the  place 
Receive  them,  and  rejoice. 

351 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


Her  eyes,  with  heavenly  reason  bright, 
Are  on  the  ground  cast  low  ; 

It  is  his  words  of  truth  and  light 
That  sets  them  shining  so. 

But  see !  a  face  is  at  the  door 
Whose  eyes  are  not  at  rest; 

A  voice  breaks  in  on  wisest  lore 
With  petulant  request. 


“  Lord,”  Martha  says,  “  dost  thou  not  care 
She  lets  me  serve  alone? 

Tell  her  to  come  and  take  her  share.” 

Still  Mary’s  eyes  shine  on. 


Calmly  she  lifts  a  questioning  glance 
To  him  who  calmly  heard ; 

The  merest  sign,  she  ’ll  rise  at  once, 
Nor  wait  the  uttered  word. 


The  other,  standing  by  the  door, 
Waits  too  Avhat  he  will  say. 

His  “  Martha,  Martha  ”  with  it  bore 
A  sense  of  coming  nay. 

Cently  her  troubled  heart  he  chid ; 

Rebuked  its  needless  care ; 

Methinks  her  face  she  turned  and  hid 
With  shame  that  bordered  prayer. 


What  needful  thing  is  Mary’s  choice, 
Nor  shall  be  taken  away? 

There  is  but  one,  —  ’t  is  Jesus’  voice  ; 
And  listening  she  shall  stay. 


O,  joy  to  every  doubting  heart, 
Doing  the  thing  it  would, 

When  He,  the  holy,  takes  its  part, 
And  calls  its  choice  the  good ! 


352 


Rev.  George  MacDonald. 


MARY’S  CHOICE. 


ESUS,  engrave  it  on  my  heart, 

That  thou  the  one  tiling  needful  art ; 
I  could  from  all  things  parted  be, 


But  never,  never,  Lord,  from  thee. 


Needful  is  thy  most  precious  blood, 
Needful  is  thy  correcting  rod, 
Needful  is  thy  indulgent  care, 
Needful  thy  all-prevailing  prayer. 

Needful  thy  presence,  dearest  Lord, 
True  peace  and  comfort  to  afford ; 
Needful  thy  promise  to  impart 
Fresh  life  and  vigor  to  my  heart. 


Needful  art  thou  to  be  my  stay 
Through  all  life’s  dark  and  thorny  way ; 
Nor  less  in  death  thou  ’It  needful  be, 

To  bring  my  spirit  home  to  thee. 

Then  needful  still,  my  God,  my  King, 
Thy  name  eternally  I  ’ll  sing ; 

Glory  and  praise  be  ever  his, 

The  one  thing  needful,  Jesus  is. 


353 


Anon. 


THE  BETTER  PART. 


LOVE  divine,  how  sweet  thou  art ! 
When  shall  I  find  iny  willing  heart 
All  taken  up  by  thee  ? 

I  thirst,  I  faint,  I  die  to  prove 
The  greatness  of  redeeming  love, 

The  love  of  Christ  to  me. 


Stronger  his  love  than  death  or  hell ; 

Its  riches  are  unsearchable  ; 

The  first-born  sons  of  light 
Desire  in  vain  its  depths  to  see ; 

They  cannot  reach  the  mystery, 

The  length  and  breadth  and  height. 


God  only  knows  the  love  of  God ; 

0  that  it  now  were  shed  abroad 
In  this  poor  stony  heart ! 

For  love  I  sigh,  for  love  I  pine  ; 
This  only  portion,  Lord,  be  mine, — 
Be  mine  this  better  part. 


Forever  would  I  take  my  seat 
With  Mary  at  the  Master’s  feet ; 

Be  this  my  happy  choice  ; 

My  only  care,  delight,  and  bliss, 

My  joy,  my  heaven  on  earth,  be  this, — 
To  hear  the  Bridegroom’s  voice. 


354 


Anon. 


SONNETS. 


I.  MARY  AT  THE  FEET  OF  CHRIST. 

H !  blest  beyond  all  daughters  of  the  earth  ! 

What  were  the  Orient’s  thrones  to  that  low  seat, 
Where  thy  hushed  spirit  drew  celestial  birth  ? 

Mary !  meek  listener  at  the  Saviour’s  feet ! 

No  feverish  cares  to  that  divine  retreat 
Thy  woman’s  heart  of  silent  worship  brought, 

But  a  fresh  childhood,  heavenly  truth  to  meet, 

With  love,  and  wonder,  and  submissive  thought. 

Oh  !  for  the  holy  quiet  of  thy  breast, 

’Midst  the  world’s  eager  tones  and  footsteps  flying ! 

Thou,  whose  calm  soul  was  like  a  well-spring  lying 
So  deep  and  still  in  its  transparent  rest, 

That  e’en  when  noontide  burns  upon  the  hills, 

Some  one  bright  solemn  star  all  its  lone  mirror  fills. 

II.  THE  SISTERS  OF  BETHANY  AFTER  THE  DEATH  OF 

LAZARUS. 

NE  grief,  one  faith,  O  sisters  of  the  dead ! 

Was  in  your  bosoms,  —  thou,  whose  steps,  made  fleet 
By  keen  hope  fluttering  in  the  heart  which  bled, 

Bore  thee,  as  wings,  the  Lord  of  life  to  greet ; 

And  thou,  that  duteous  in  thy  still  retreat 
Didst  wait  his  summons,  —  then  with  reverent  love 
Fall  weeping  at  the  blest  Deliverer’s  feet, 

Whom  e’en  to  heavenly  tears  thy  woe  coidd  move. 

And  which  to  Him,  the  All-Seeing  and  All-Just, 

Was  loveliest,  that  quick  zeal,  or  lowly  trust? 

Oh  !  question  not,  and  let  no  law  be  given 
To  those  unveilings  of  its  deepest  shrine, 

By  the  wrong  spirit  made  in  outward  sign  : 

Free  service  from  the  heart  is  all  in  all  to  Heaven. 

355 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


III.  THE  MEMORIAL  OF  MARY. 

“  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Wheresoever  this  gospel  shall  be  preached  in  the  whole  world, 
there  shall  also  this,  that  this  woman  hath  done,  be  told  for  a  memorial  of  her.” —  Mat¬ 
thew  xxvi.  13.  See,  also,  John  xii.  3. 


HOU  hast  thy  record  in  the  monarch’s  hall, 
And  on  the  waters  of  the  far  mid-sea ; 

And  where  the  mighty  mountain-shadows  fall, 
The  Alpine  hamlet  keeps  a  thought  of  thee : 
Where’er,  beneath  some  Oriental  tree, 

The  Christian  traveler  rests,  —  where’er  the  child 
Looks  upward  from  the  English  mother’s  knee, 

With  earnest  eyes  in  wondering  reverence  mild, 

There  art  thou  known,  —  where’er  the  Book  of  Light 
Bears  hope  and  healing,  there,  beyond  all  blight, 

Is  borne  thy  memory,  and  all  praise  above ; 

O,  say  what  deed  so  lifted  thy  sweet  name, 

Mary !  to  that  pure,  silent  place  of  fame  ? 

One  lowly  offering  of  exceeding  love. 


356 


Felicia  Hcmans. 


MARY. 


h 


ER  eyes  are  homes  of  silent  prayer, 
Nor  other  thought  her  mind  admits 
But  he  was  dead,  and  there  he  sits, 
And  He  that  brought  him  back  is  there. 


Then  one  deep  love  doth  supersede 
All  other,  when  her  ardent  gaze 
Roves  from  the  living  brother’s  face 
And  rests  upon  the  Life  indeed. 

All  subtle  thought,  all  curious  fears, 

Borne  down  by  gladness  so  complete, 

She  bows,  she  bathes  the  Saviour’s  feet 
With  costly  spikenard  and  with  tears. 

Thrice  blest  whose  lives  arc  faithful  prayers, 

Whose  loves  in  higher  love  endure  ; 

What  souls  possess  themselves  so  pure, 

Or  is  there  blessedness  like  theirs  ? 

Alfred  Tennyson . 


\s\  , '  n  i  Q 


THE  WIDOW’S  MITE. 


Dubufe,  Pinx. 


Jehenne,  Lith. 


THE  WIDOW’S  MITE. 

HE  great  peculiarity  of  the  Bible  is  its  unworldliness, 
—  its  contempt  of  what  men  usually  care  for,  its  care 
for  what  men  usually  despise.  It  is  the  book  of  the 
neglected,  the  suffering,  the  forgotten.  This  care  of 
the  lowly  is  asserted  of  the  God  of  the  Bible  with  a  peculiar 
majesty  of  language  :  “For  thus  saith  the  high  and  lofty  One 
that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy :  I  dwell  in  the 
high  and  holy  place,  with  him  also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and 
humble  spirit,  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones.” 

One  of  the  most  painful  feelings  of  the  heart  is  the  sense  of 
personal  insignificance.  To  have  the  soul  full  of  emotions  that 
nobody  cares  for ;  to  love  and  admire  those  who  Ave  are  sensible 
can  neither  know  nor  regard  our  love  ;  to  long  in  some  way  to  do 
something  for  a  great  and  noble  cause,  and  feel  utterly  poor  and 
powerless,  —  be  conscious  that  the  utmost  Ave  can  grte  and  do  is 
of  no  account, — is  a  smothering  soitoav  which  would  have  no 
outlet  Avere  there  not  such  a  God  as  the  Bible  reA^eals. 

The  temple  of  the  living  God  in  Jerusalem  was  a  miracle  of 
riches  and  splendor.  Tacitus  speaks  of  it  as  a  prodigy  of  opu¬ 
lence,  celebrated  through  the  world.  It  flamed  like  a  constella¬ 
tion  on  the  distant  ArieAv  of  the  tribes  going  up  to  worship 
in  Jerusalem,  a  mountain  of  white  marble  and  glittering  gold. 
The  pride  and  Avealth  of  the  returning  JeAvs,  whom  the  great 
festivals  brought  up  to  Jerusalem,  Avere  all  the  while  enrich¬ 
ing  the  treasury  with  magnificent  offerings  from  eA*ery  knoAvn 
land.  The  JeAvs  Avere  a  trading  people,  scattered  through  all 
lands  of  the  earth,  avIio  brought  back,  when  they  returned  to  their 
national  festivals,  contributions  from  all  the  riches  of  the  world. 

An  incident  of  the  life  of  Jesus  shows  him  sitting  by,  watching 
the  rich  and  prosperous  as  they  Avent  up  and  cast  their  offerings 

359 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


in ;  and  he  judged  and  valued  very  differently  from  any  human 
spectator.  “  And  looking  up,  he  saw  the  rich  men  casting  their 
gifts  into  the  treasury.  And  he  saw  also  a  poor  widow  casting 
therein  two  mites,  and  he  said,  Of  a  truth  I  say  unto  you  that 
this  poor  widow  hath  cast  in  more  than  they  all.  For  all  these 
have,  of  their  abundance,  cast  in  unto  the  offerings  of  God,  but 
she  of  her  penury  hath  cast  in  all  the  living  she  hath.” 

Here  is  the  secret  history  of  a  life  which  mirrors  thousands. 
A  widow  with  none  to  work  for  her,  poor,  pinched  to  make  the 
ends  of  life  meet,  restricted  to  the  plainest  food  and  scantiest 
clothing,  and  yet  with  all  longing  to  do  a  little  something  for  her 
country  and  her  God  !  Patriotic  and  pious  feeling  burned  in  her 
heart ;  her  two  poor  little  mites  could  scarcely  be  more  in  the 
great  splendid  treasury  than  two  snowflakes  in  the  ocean,  but 
she  wanted  to  give  them.  Perhaps  she  did  not  hear  the  words 
of  Jesus,  and  only  went  away  with  the  feeling  of  a  loving  heart 
that  she  had  done  what  she  could. 

But  these  words  of  Jesus  were  like  the  bread  which  he  gave 
to  feed  the  multitude.  They  were  gathered  up  and  stored  in  the 
record,  that  they  might  in  all  ages  be  food  of  encouragement  for 
humble,  unseen,  faithful  laborers  in  God’s  work.  The  words, 
“  She  hath  done  what  she  could,”  are  meant  for  thousands 
whom  the  world  knew  not  then  and  for  thousands  whom  it  knows 
not  now.  For  example:  In  this  house  is  an  aged,  bedridden 
woman,  old  and  blind,  utterly  dependent  on  the  care  of  a  nurse ; 
to  be  taken  up,  washed,  dressed,  fed  like  a  helpless  infant.  But 
her  mind  remains  strong  and  active,  and  day  and  night,  through 
the  dark  and  lonely  hours,  her  thoughts  travel  towards  the  sanctu¬ 
ary  where  once  she  worshiped  with  the  people  of  God.  She 
keeps  track  of  all  the  good  works  that  are  doing  in  the  world ; 
she  is  an  eager,  sympathetic  listener,  and  counts  all  that  is  done 
for  Christ’s  cause  as  so  much  personal  gain.  But  the  prayers 
of  helplessness  are  the  only  aid  she  can  give.  During  dark  days 
and  long  wakeful  night  hours  she  lies  praying,  “Thy  kingdom 
come,  thy  will  be  done ;  ”  she  prays  for  this  and  that  good  cause ; 
she  prays  for  her  church,  for  her  minister,  for  her  Christian 
friends,  for  her  children  and  relatives ;  she  prays  because  she 

360 


THE  WIDOW'S  MITE. 

cannot  help  it.  Bnt  all  this  while  she  has  the  feeling,  “What  a 
poor,  helpless,  worthless  creature  I  am !  Why  am  I  kept  in  a 
world  where  I  can  do  nothing  and  am  only  a  burden  ?  ”  But 
in  the  eyes  of  Jesus  those  constant  prayers  of  her  weakness  are 
so  many  offerings  falling  into  the  treasury  of  the  temple  ;  noiseless 
as  snowflakes,  uncounted  in  the  world’s  estimate  of  forces,  they 
are  counted  by  him,  and  he  says,  u  She  hath  done  what  she  could.'1'1 
Those  silent  prayers  may  be  dearer  in  his  eyes  and  in  the  eyes 
of  witnessing  angels  than  bursts  of  eloquence  and  floods  of  noisy 
zeal  that  attract  the  attention  of  the  world. 

In  the  town  of  Brunswick,  Maine,  is  shown  the  lonely  cottage 
where  an  old  negro  woman  once  lived,  supported  through  days 
of  helplessness  by  the  alms  of  her  neighbors.  Yet  the  prayers 
of  this  woman,  her  example  of  patient  suffering,  the  witness  she 
was  able  to  bear  to  the  sustaining  power  of  religious  faith,  caused 
her  to  be  a  blessing  to  the  town  and  a  power  in  the  church. 
Her  patient  endurance,  her  loving  spirit,  and  her  prayers  were 
offerings  cast  into  the  treasury  that  brought  forth  more  good 
than  the  service  of  many  more  gifted  and  educated. 

And  so,  through  all  the  ranks  and  orders  of  this  busy  world, 
the  eye  of  Jesus  is  on  the  unnoticed  workers  and  givers.  In  this 
respect  the  service  of  God  differs  from  all  other  service.  In 
human  affairs  the  small  workers  are  overlooked.  It  is  the 
general,  the  governor,  the  orator,  the  poet,  that  gets  the  praise 
and  is  supposed  to  do  the  work.  The  poor  common  soldier  that 
fell  and  bled  to  death  uncomplaining  and  alone  is  not  remem¬ 
bered,  the  glory  goes  to  the  officer  who  planned  the  battle.  The 
poor  widow  who  gave  her  only  son  to  die  for  his  country  is 
forgotten  in  the  hour  of  triumph  and  glory. 

But  in  Christ’s  final  triumph  there  will  be  no  such  overlook¬ 
ing.  He  tells  us  that  not  so  much  as  the  gift  of  a  cup  of  cold 
water  shall  lose  its  reward.  As  he  saw  the  pearl  of  great  price 
in  the  silent  gift  of  this  poor  widow,  so  he  is  still  going  forth  a 
“  merchantman  seeking  goodly  pearls,”  and  in  the  day  when  he 
shall  make  up  his  jewels,  how  many  such  obscure  and  neglected 
offerings  will  be  brought  to  light ! 

The  tenderness  of  Jesus  for  the  widow  is  often  shown  in  his 

S61 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY 

history.  The  law  of  Moses  manifests  a  special  care  over  the 
helplessness  of  widowhood,  and  the  Jews  were  taught  both  by  the 
law  and  the  prophets  to  regard  the  widow  as  peculiarly  under 
God’s  protection.  Jesus  was  the  ideal  Jew  of  his  times.  All 
that  was  tender  and  humane  in  the  institutes  of  Moses  shone 
forth  in  him  with  an  added  grace  and  benignity.  Hence  we  find 
so  many  instances  of  his  peculiar  care  for  this  class  of  helpless 
sufferers :  it  was  the  only  son  of  a  widow  that  he  called  back 
from  the  dead ;  it  wras  a  poor  widow  besetting  an  unjust  judge 
that  was  liis  illustration  of  the  prevailing  force  of  prayer;  he 
indignantly  denounces  those  who  devour  widows’  houses.  It  is 
inferred  from  many  incidents  in  the  sacred  narrative  that  his 
own  mother  was  left  a  widow  before  the  beginning  of  his  public 
career,  and  thus  personal  knowledge  of  the  trials  of  such  added 
to  his  feeling. 

The  name  of  the  woman  in  this  little  story  is  not  told  us.  She 
drifts  before  us  as  the  type  of  a  great  class  never  wanting  in  life, 
—  the  poor,  hard-working,  little-regarded  widow,  —  and  what  was 
said  of  her  may  be  the  comfort  of  thousands.  It  may  have  been 
among  the  blest  surprises  of  heaven,  after  this  woman  passed  the 
golden  gate,  to  find  her  poor  little  offerings  garnered  up  in  God’s 
loving  remembrance,  as  we  keep  the  plaything  our  sick  and 
suffering  child  gives  us  as  its  last  love-gift.  This  generous  God, 
who  thus  cares  for  the  least  and  lowest,  is  the  God  revealed  in 
Jesus.  “He  is  our  God  forever;  he  will  be  our  guide  until 
death.” 

362 


THE  WIDOW’S  MITE. 


T  is  the  fruit  of  waking  hours, 

When  others  are  asleep, 

When  moaning  round  the  low  thatched  roof 
The  winds  of  winter  creep. 

It  is  the  fruit  of  summer  days 
Passed  in  a  gloomy  room, 

When  others  are  abroad,  to  taste 
The  pleasant  morning  bloom. 

’T  is  given  from  a  scanty  store, 

And  missed  while  it  is  given  ; 

’T  is  given,  for  the  claims  of  earth 
Are  less  than  those  of  Heaven. 

Few,  save  the  poor,  feel  for  the  poor  ; 

The  rich  know  not  how  hard 

It  is  to  be  of  needful  food 

And  neebful  rest  debarred. 

Their  paths  are  paths  of  plenteousness ; 

They  sleep  on  silk  and  down, 

And  never  think  how  heavily 
The  weary  head  lies  down. 

They  know  not  of  the  scanty  meal, 

With  small  pale  faces  round ; 

No  fire  upon  the  cold,  damp  hearth, 

When  snow  is  on  the  ground. 

363 


WOMAN"  IX  SACHET)  HIS  TOBY. 


They  never  by  their  window  sit 
And  see  the  gay  pass  by ; 

Yet  take  their  weary  work  again, 

Though  with  a  mournful  eye. 

The  rich,  they  give  —  they  miss  it  not ; 

A  blessing  cannot  be 
Like  that  which  rests,  thou  widowed  one, 

Upon  thy  gift  and  thee  ! 

Lctitia  E.  Landon. 


THE  WIDOW’S  OFFERING. 

“  She  of  her  penury  hath  cast  in  all  the  living  that  she  had.” 

STRONG  in  faith !  thus  cheerfully  to  fling, 
With  unreluctant  hand,  thine  earthly  all 
LTpon  God’s  altar!  Did  no  fear  appall, 

No  dread  arise  of  future  suffering, 

Of  anguish  such  as  poverty  may  bring 

To  the  worn  frame,  o’ertasked?  No,  —  for  between 
Thy  faith  and  God  no  cloud  did  intervene. 

Thou  couldst  not  doubt  the  fullness  of  that  Spring 
Whence  flowed  thy  sure  supply !  Thrice  happy  thou, 

On  whose  unquestioning  faith  the  Saviour’s  eye 
Looked  and  approved  !  Thy  record  is  on  high,  — 
And  taught  by  thee,  my  doubting  soul  shall  bow, 

And  own  with  shame  its  former  fears  unjust, 

Clinging  henceforth  to  God  in  perfect  trust. 


364 


William  H.  Burleigh. 


THE  VALUE  OF  A  LITTLE. 

thy  little,  do  it  well ; 

>o  what  right  and  reason  tell ; 

>o  what  wrong  and  sorrow  claim, 
Conquer  sin  and  cover  shame. 

Do  thy  little,  though  it  be 
Dreariness  and  drudgery ; 

They  whom  Christ  apostles  made, 

“  Gathered  fragments  ”  when  he  bade. 

Do  thy  little  :  never  mind 
Though  thy  brethren  be  unkind, 

Though  the  men  who  ought  to  smile 
Mock  and  taunt  thee  for  a  while. 

Do  thy  little  :  never  fear 
While  thy  Saviour  standeth  near ; 

Let  the  world  its  javelins  throw, 

On  thy  way  undaunted  go. 

Do  thy  little :  God  hath  made 
Million  leaves  for  forest  shade  ; 

Smallest  stars  their  glory  bring  ; 

God  employeth  everything. 

Do  thy  little ;  and  when  thou 
Fcelest  on  thy  pallid  brow, 

Ere  has  fled  the  vital  breath, 

Cold  and  damp  the  sweat  of  death, — 

Then  the  little  thou  hast  done, 

Little  battles  thou  hast  won, 

365 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 


Little  masteries  achieved, 

Little  want  with  care  relieved, 

Little  words  in  love  expressed, 

Little  wrongs  at  once  confessed, 

Little  favors  kindly  done, 

Little  toils  thou  didst  not  shun, 

Little  graces  meekly  worn, 

Little  slights  with  patience  borne,  — 

These  shall  crown  the  pillowed  head, 
Holy  light  upon  thee  shed ; 

These  are  treasures  that  shall  rise 
Far  beyond  the  smiling  skies. 

Anonymous. 


THE  TWO  MITES. 


WO  mites,  two  drops,  yet  all  her  house  and  land, 
Fall  from  a  steady  heart,  though  trembling  hand  ; 
The  other’s  wanton  wealth  flows  high  and  brave, 


The  other  cast  away,  she  only  gave. 


Richard,  Crashaw. 


366 


r  •*' 


WOMEN  OF  THE  APOSTOLIC  CHURCH. 

HE  Christian  Chnrcli  developed  as  blossom  and  fruit 
of  the  Jewish  one.  It  took  all  that  centuries  of 
growth  and  care  had  done  for  human  society,  and, 
giving  to  it  a  warmer  soil  and  higher  culture,  devel¬ 
oped  from  it  a  richer  and  higher  life. 

The  Jewish  dispensation  had  already  allotted  to  woman  a 
position  of  great  respect  and  consideration.  We  have  seen  in 
these  studies,  that,  according  to  the  usages  of  the  Mosaic  dis¬ 
pensation,  woman  could  equally  with  man  be  recognized  as 
a  recipient  of  the  Divine  gift  of  prophecy,  and  through  this 
recognized  as  an  authoritative  teacher.  We  have  seen,  indeed, 
the  sister  of  Moses  associated  with  him  in  the  prophetic  office 
during  the  time  that  the  Jewish  system  was  being  consolidated, 
and  spoken  of  in  the  prophetic  writings  as  sent  of  God 
equally  with  her  brothers  Moses  and  Aaron:  “I  sent  before 
you  Moses  and  Aaron  and  Miriam.” 

It  appears  in  the  history  of  our  Lord,  that  the  customs  of 
society  in  relation  to  the  sacred  or  religious  offices  of  women 
were  such  that  it  gave  no  scandal  and  excited  no  comment 
that  a  band  of  pious  women  accompanied  the  preaching  tours 
of  Jesus  through  Palestine.  The  probability  seems  to  be  that 
under  his  direction  they  were  agents  in  that  ministry  of  con¬ 
solation  which  he  declared  to  be  his  peculiar  mission. 

When  we  consider  how  little  it  has  been  the  study  and 
office  of  so-called  Christian  ecclesiastical  power  to  comfort  the 
poor  and  sorrowful,  it  excites  a  sort  of  wonder,  in  view  of 
the  first  declaration  which  our  Lord  made  of  the  purpose 
of  his  mission,  at  Nazareth,  that  this  and  nothing  else  was 
mentioned. 

367 


WOMAN-  IH  SACKED  HISTORY. 


“  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon  vie,  because  he  hath  appointed 
vie  to  preach  the  good  news  to  the  poor,  —  he  hath  sent  vie  to  heal  the 
broken-hearted,  to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives  and  recovering 
of  sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised .” 

In  this  ministry  of  mercy  it  was  particularly  right  and  meet 
that  women  should  be  associated.  We  find,  from  the  record  of 
the  Evangelist,  that  these  women,  some  of  them  of  high  position 
and  of  liberal  means,  gave  contributions  to  the  common  stock 
out  of  which  the  traveling  mission  was  supported.  It  also 
appears,  from  incidental  mention,  that  Jesus  not  only  helped 
the  suffering  by  miraculous  power,  but  that  out  of  the  family 
purse,  which  was  kept  for  common  expenses,  he  was  wont  to 
give  alms  to  the  poor,  so  that  at  the  Last  Supper  his  enigmatical 
words  to  Judas  were  supposed  by  them  to  refer  to  some  deed 
of  almsgiving-. 

In  the  fact  that  the  progress  of  the  mission  family  of  the  Lord 
through  the  country  was  so  largely  one  of  relief  and  consolation, 
we  see  a  still  further  reason  why  it  excited  no  remark  or  scandal. 
These  women  were  so  evidently  laborers  for  others,  helpers 
and  comforters  of  the  distressed  and  suffering,  their  life  was  so 
unselfish  and  devoted  to  the  good  of  others,  that  no  one  felt 
disposed  to  sjoeak  against  them.  They  were  holy  women,  —  a 
recognized  order  in  the  old  Jewish  church,  rising  into  a  recog¬ 
nized  order  in  the  Christian  life  with  the  development  of  the 
larger  liberty  of  Christianity. 

In  the  very  first  sermon  preached  after  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus,  the  first  public  announcement  of  the  genius  of  the  new 
dispensation,  the  Apostle  Peter  quotes  the  words  of  the  prophet 
Joel:  “It  shall  come  to  pass  in  the  last  days,  saith  God,  that 
I  will  pour  out  my  spirit  upon  all  flesh,  and  your  sons  and 
your  daughters  shall  prophesy ;  and  on  my  servants  and  on  my 
handmaids  I  will  pour  out  my  spirit,  and  they  shall  prophesy.” 

After  the  resurrection,  when  the  disciples  assembled  together 
to  pray  for  the  promised  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  these  holy 
women  are  especially  mentioned  as  being  present,  with  Mary 
the  mother  of  Jesus  at  their  head. 

Subsequently  in  the  history  of  the  apostolic  labors  we  come 

368 


WOMEN  OF  THE  APOSTOLIC  CHURCH 

upon  traces  of  these  devout  women,  who  seemed  to  share  the 
mission  labors  of  the  Apostles,  or  to  minister  as  deaconesses  in 
individual  churches.  They  were  sometimes  married  women,  who 
traveled  with  and  shared  the  labors  of  their  husbands.  Such 
a  pair  were  Priscilla  and  Aquila,  who  are  frequently  noticed  in 
the  Boole  of  Acts.  The  name  of  the  wife  is  generally  put  first, 
perhaps  from  the  fact  that  the  woman  was  the  more  energetic 
of  the  two ;  and  it  appears,  from  the  narrative  in  Acts,  that 
Priscilla  and  Aquila  were  both  united  in  the  theological  training 
of  the  eloquent  Apollos,  whom  they  “  took,”  and  to  whom  they 
expounded  the  way  of  God  more  perfectly.  Paul  first  stayed 
with  this  pair  in  Corinth,  working  with  them  at  their  common 
business  of  tent-making.  On  the  Apostle’s  departure  from  Corinth 
the  faithful  pair  accompanied  him  on  his  missionary  labors,  and 
remained  with  him  awhile  at  Ephesus,  where  they  met  with 
Apollos.  Afterwards  it  appears,  from  Romans  xvi.  3,  that  this 
couple  had  settled  themselves  in  Rome,  where  they  are  once 
more  mentioned  by  the  Apostle  as  his  “helpers  in  Christ  Jesus”: 
he  adds,  “Who  for  my  life  have  laid  down  their  own  necks; 
unto  whom  not  only  I  give  thanks,  but  all  the  churches  of  the 
Gentiles.” 

In  the  same  chapter  of  Romans  we  find  mention  of  another 
holy  woman  holding  a  definite  rank  in  the  Church:  “I  com¬ 
mend  unto  you  Phoebe  our  sister,  which  is  a  deaconess  of  the 
church  at  Ceuchrea.”  Cenchrea  was  the  seaport  of  Corinth, 
and  it  is  probable  that  the  churches  of  Corinth  and  Cenchrea 
were  identical.  Phoebe,  it  appears,  traveled  independently,  and 
came  with  a  recognized  position  to  the  Christian  Church  at 
Rome;  and  the  manner  in  which  the  Apostle  speaks  of  her 
sufficiently  defines  the  work  of  her  office:  “She  hath  been  a 
succorer  of  many,  and  of  myself  also.” 

The  Apostle  goes  on  sending  messages  to  other  members  of 
the  Christian  body,  among  which  occurs  this:  “Greet  Mary, 
who  bestowed  much  labor  upon  us.  Salute  Andronicus  and 
Junia,  my  fellow-prisoners.  Salute  Triphena  and  Triphosa,  who 
labor  in  the  Lord.  Salute  the  beloved  Persis,  who  labored  much 
in  the  Lord.  Salute  Julia  and  Nereus  and  his  sister.” 

369 


WOMAN  IN  SAC  I  ED  HISTORY. 

AVe  have  also  in  the  Acts  the  account  of  Dorcas,  whose  sudden 
death,  putting  an  end  to  a  fruitful  ministry  of  consolation,  caused 
mourning  through  the  church  at  Joppa,  and  who  was  miracu¬ 
lously  restored  to  life  by  the  Apostle  Peter. 

Here  we  have  the  image  of  the  Christian  woman  of  those 
days,  with  the  poor  weeping  around  her  lifeless  body  and 
showing  sorrowfully  the  coats  and  garments  she  made  for  them 
while  she  was  yet  living. 

AVe  have  a  somewhat  minute  account  of  Lydia,  a  distin¬ 
guished  convert,  made  by  the  preaching  of  the  Apostle  Paul 
at  Philippi. 

It  appears  from  the  story  that  a  colony  of  Jews  were  estab¬ 
lished  at  Philippi,  a  city  of  Macedonia,  and  that  the  worship  of 
the  synagogue  was  held  there  on  the  Sabbath  day.  The  Apos¬ 
tle’s  narrative  says :  “  On  the  Sabbath  day  we  went  out  of  the 
city  by  the  river-side,  to  a  place  where  prayer  was  wont  to  be 
made ;  and  we  sat  down  and  spake  unto  the  women  that  resorted 
thither.  And  a  certain  woman  named  Lydia,  a  seller  of  purple, 
of  the  city  of  Thyatira,  which  worshiped  God,  heard  us,  whose 
heart  the  Lord  opened  that  she  attended  to  the  things  that  were 
spoken  by  Paul.  And  when  she  was  baptized  with  her  house¬ 
hold,  she  said,  If  ye  have  judged  me  to  be  faithful  to  the  Lord, 
come  unto  my  house  and  abide  there.  And  she  constrained  us.” 

And  now  occurred  an  event  of  striking  import.  There  was 
in  the  city  a  girl  who,  in  our  modern  times,  would  be  called 
a  medium,  and  who,  as  such  mediums  do  in  our  days,  brought 
her  masters  much  gain  by  soothsaying.  This  girl  followed 
Paul  and  his  associates  through  the  streets,  crying  aloud,  “  These 
men  are  the  servants  of  the  most  high  God,  which  show  unto 
us  the  way  of  salvation.” 

It  is  recorded  that,  so  far  from  wishing  to  avail  himself  of  such 
testimony  in  his  mission,  Paul  was  grieved,  and  turned  and  said 
to  the  spirit  which  possessed  her,  “  I  command  thee  in  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ  to  come  out  of  her,”  and  he  came  out  the  Same 
hour.  And  when  her  masters  saw  that  the  hope  of  their  gains 
was  gone,  they  raised  a  popular  tumult,  and  led  the  Apostles  be¬ 
fore  a  magistrate ;  and  they  were  scourged  and  cast  into  prison. 

370 


WOMEN  OF  THE  APOSTOLIC  CHURCH. 

When  they  had  been  miraculously  delivered  from  the  prison 
they  returned  again  to  the  house  of  Lydia,  where  they  remained 
some  time,  comforting  and  strengthening  the  disciples. 

This  is  all  we  know  of  the  history  of  Lydia.  Renan,  in  his 
“Apostles,”  conjectures  a  marriage  between  her  and  St.  Paul, 
founding  the  idea  on  St.  Paul’s  assertion,  “  Have  we  not  a  right 
to  lead  about  a  sister,  a  wife  ?  ” 

He  seems  to  think  and  assume  with  an  easy  air  of  knowledge, 
that,  because  St.  Paul  asserted  his  right  to  have  a  wife,  and 
because  Lydia  would  have  made  a  good  one,  there  is  there¬ 
fore  no  doubt  of  the  fact,  and  with  a  singular  ignoring  (for  a 
critic)  of  all  lack  of  evidence,  he  alludes  to  it  forthwith  as  a 
historical  verity  too  well  known  to  need  proof. 

In  the  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  St.  Paul  expresses  a  delib¬ 
erate  choice  of  a  single  life,  not  from  any  superstitious  or  ascetic 
notions  of  the  superior  purity  of  such  a  life,  but  simply  as 
enabling  him  with  less  distraction  to  devote  himself  to  the 
missionary  work.  So  far  as  there  is  any  evidence,  therefore, 
it  is  in  favor  of  Paul’s  celibacy.  In  this  same  epistle  he  as¬ 
serts  his  right,  if  he  saw  lit,  to  lead  about  a  sister,  a  wife,  as 
well  as  other  Apostles,  or  as  the  brother  of  the  Lord,  or  Ce¬ 
phas.  But  he  asserts  his  right  to  that  which  at  the  same  time 
he  disclaims  on  grounds  of  higher  expediency.  Life  is  too 
short,  affords  too  little  rest  in  such  a  work  as  he  projects,  to 
leave  space  for  family  ties.  “The  time  is  short,”  he  saj^s;  “it 
remaineth  that  those  that  have  wives  be  as  though  they  had 
none,  and  they  that  weep  as  though  they  wept  not,  and  they 
that  rejoice  as  though  they  rejoiced  not.” 

Of  the  somewhat  striking  figure  of  Lydia,  then,  we  can  only 
make  out  thus  much,  —  a  vigorous,  large-hearted,  Greek  woman, 
perhaps  and  probably  of  Jewish  parentage,  and  evidently  a 
convert  to  the  Jewish  religion,  who  embraced  Christianity  at 
once,  and  became  in  a  large  and  generous  sense  a  ministering 
mother  in  the  Church. 

That  there  was  afterwards  a  church  in  her  native  city  of 
Thyatira  may  have  been  the  consequence  of  her  Christian 
enthusiasm  and  zeal,  but  there  is  no  further  distinct  record  of 

371 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

the  foot.  She  was  a  trader  in  purple  and  fine  linen ;  prob¬ 
ably  her  traffic  had  its  center  in  Thyatira,  and  she  visited  Philippi 
in  the  way  of  trade,  where  she  met  the  Apostle  and  received  the 
new  religion. 

One  such  woman  as  she  seems  in  the  history  to  be,  so  prompt, 
so  energetic,  so  courageous  and  fearless,  gifted  with  wealth  and 
a  vigorous  temperament,  and  enkindled  with  religious  fervor,  is 
quite  a  sufficient  cause  to  account  for  the  existence  of  a  Christian 
church  in  Thyatira.  But  there  is  not  in  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  nor  in  all  the  Epistles  of  Paul,  a  single  fact  or  in¬ 
cident  which  would  lead  us  to  suppose  any  wifely  companion¬ 
ship  with  Paul  on  her  part.  She  was  a  noble  and  efficient 
fellow- worker,  however,  and  may  have  been  one  of  the  women 
afterwards  mentioned  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Philippians,  who 
labored  with  him  in  the  gospel  in  that  place,  and  whose  names 
were  in  “  the  Book  of  Life.” 

372 


DORCAS. 


F  I  might  guess,  then  guess  I  would  : 
Amid  the  gathered  folk 
This  gentle  Dorcas  one  day  stood, 
And  heard  what  Jesus  spoke. 

She  saw  the  woven,  seamless  coat,  — 

Half  envious  for  his  sake  ; 

“  O  happy  hands,”  she  said,  “  that  wrought 
That  honored  thing  to  make !  ” 

Her  eyes  with  longing  tears  grow  dim  ; 

She  never  can  come  nigh, 

To  work  one  service  poor  for  Him 
For  whom  she  glad  would  die ! 

But  hark  !  lie  speaks  a  mighty  word  : 

She  hearkens  now  indeed  ! 

“  When  did  we  see  thee  naked,  Lord, 

And  clothe  thee  in  thy  need  ? 

“  The  King  shall  answer,  Inasmuch 
As  to  my  brothers  ye 

Did  it,  —  even  to  the  least  of  such,  — 

Are  did  it  unto  me.” 

Home,  home  she  went,  and  plied  the  loom, 
And  Jesus’  poor  arrayed. 

She  died,  —  they  wept  about  the  room 
And  showed  the  coats  she  made. 


373 


Rev.  George  Macdonald. 


A  DISCIPLE.” 


“A  WOMAN 


>>  << 


Acts  ix.  36. 


HEN  ministering  women  went 
With  Christ  through  Galilee, 

On  Him  their  eager  service  spent, 
Their  substance  lavished  free, 

We  know  not  if  there  went  with  these 
Discipleship  to  claim  ; 

Enough,  we  know  thy  ministries 
Did  win  for  thee  the  name. 

“  Woman  ”  —  “  Disciple  ”  —  for  good  deeds, 
Wrought  by  thy  loving  hands, 

That  ministered  to  lowly  needs, 

Thy  name  on  record  stands, 

Embalmed  in  fragrant  love  and  tears 
And  everlasting  praise, 

That  down  to  our  far  distant  years 
Doth  fresh  memorials  raise. 

Woman  !  Disciple  !  still  the  same 
Christ  claims  your  ministering ; 

Still  tender,  fearless,  over  shame 
Your  love’s  fair  garment  fling ! 

Still  let  your  helpful  hands  be  swift 
To  bless  and  beautify  ; 

The  lowest  services  do  lift 
Up  to  His  throne  on  high. 


374 


Anonymous. 


ST.  PAUL  AND  LYDIA. 

“  And  on  the  sabbath  we  went  out  of  the  city  by  a  river-side,  where  prayer  was  wont 
to  be  made  ;  and  we  sat  down,  and  spake  unto  the  women  that  resorted  thither.”  —  Acts 

NKS  that  holy  man, 
pleased,  creation’s  page  would  scan  ; 
loved  in  Nature’s  beauteous  face 
Her  Maker’s  lineaments  to  trace : 

For  this  he  tied  the  noisy  street, 

The  balm  of  evening’s  breath  to  greet, — 

To  sun  him  in  the  smile  that  glowed 
From  yonder  western  sky, 

And  half  forget  the  dark  abode 
Of  man  and  misery. 

Soft  and  sweet  are  the  sounds  that  then 
Steal  out  from  copse-wood,  fold,  and  glen  ; 

Those  mellow  voices  that  commingle 

With  the  small  brooklet’s  silver  song, 

That,  dancing  down  o’er  rock  and  shingle,. 

Carols  its  happiness  along. 

But  sadly  Paul  addressed  his  friend, — 

“  Hear’st  thou  that  vesper-hymn  ascend, 

Pealing  into  the  radiant  skies 
Its  pure  and  sinless  sacrifice  ? 

Alas,  to  miss  those  strains  among 
The  accents  of  the  human  tongue  !  ” 

“Nay,”  Silas  cried,  “e’en  now  methought 
Echoes  of  gentlest  speech  I  caught ! 

And  list  again  !  more  sweet  and  clear 
They  melt  upon  my  listening  ear : 

’T  is  woman’s  voice, — that  liquid  tone 
An  angel  might  not  blush  to  own  ;  — 

O  that  an  angel’s  theme  were  given 
To  notes  so  harmonized  with  heaven  ! 

375 


WOMAN  IN  SACKED  HIST  OK  Y. 

But  liaste  we  thither !  not  in  vain 
Is  breathed  on  high  that  votive  strain ; 

The  heart  that  owns  devotion’s  power 
In  such  a  scene,  at  such  an  hour, 

Needs  but  a  glimpse  of  clearer  light 
To  guide  its  wandering  homage  right.” 

’T  was  a  lone  spot,  that  shrine  of  prayer,  — 
Some  river-nymph’s  deserted  haunt, 
Whose  sacred  springlet,  diamond  clear, 
Welled  bubbling  from  its  rocky  font ; 
And  near,  all  lovely  in  decay, 

A  little  shrine  and  altar  lay  ;  — 

Ay,  lovely  !  though  the  Grecian  maid 
No  more  in  summer’s  spoils  arrayed 
The  light  Ionian  colonnade ; 

For  nature’s  wild  and  simple  taste 
Had  well  those  withering  gifts  replaced  ; 
Perennial  chaplets  court  the  breeze, 
Festooned  along  the  crumbling  frieze  ; 

Or,  climbing  up  each  shattered  shaft, 

Gayly  the  purple  blossoms  laughed ; 

Or  from  the  walls  peeped  shy  between 
The  ivy’s  everlasting  green. 

A  moment  paused  the  pilgrim  twain 
Upon  the  threshold  of  the  fane  : 

A  moment,  fixed  as  by  a  spell, 

They  listened  to  the  choral  swell  ; 

And,  0,  how  wakened  memory’s  chords 
Made  answer  to  those  thrilling  words  ! 


Psalm. 

How  lovely  is  thy  dwelling-place, 

0  Lord  our  God ! 

Our  spirit  longs  and  faints  to  trace 
The  courts  thy  saints  have  trod. 
37G 


ST.  PAUL  AND  LYDIA. 

Tlie  sparrow  and  the  swallow  there 
Have  found  a  nest : 

Ah,  why  are  we  forbid  to  share 
That  holy  place  of  rest? 

The  great  and  holy  One  on  high 
Inhabiteth  eternity, 

Nor  needs  a  human  shrine ; 

Yet,  Spirit,  boundless  as  thou  art, 
Within  the  meek  and  contrite  heart 
Thy  presence  deigns  to  shine ! 

’T  were  long  to  tell  what  greeting  passed ; 
And  how  the  twilight  hours  lied  fast, 

And  still,  with  eager  eye  and  ear, 

That  simple  band  pressed  round  to  hear ; 

And  how  the  Apostle  wove 
With  whatsoe’er  in  woman’s  breast 
Wakes  deep  and  tender  interest 
His  wondrous  tale  of  love. 

He  told,  how  in  that  awful  hour 
Of  Satan’s  brief  permitted  power, 

When  Vengeance  on  her  victim’s  head 
Her  seven-fold  vials  sternly  shed, 

When  foes  the  hand  of  menace  shook, 
And  friends  betrayed,  denied,  forsook, 
Then  woman,  meekly  constant  still, 
Followed  to  Calvary’s  fatal  hill;  — 

Yes,  followed  where  the  boldest  failed, 
Unmoved  by  threat  or  sneer ; 

For  faithful  woman’s  love  prevailed 
O'er  helpless  woman’s  fear. 

>  In  sorrow  and  in  peril  tried, 

She  was  the  last  to  quit  his  side ; 

And,  when  the  bloody  scene  was  closed, 
And  low  in  dust  her  friend  reposed, 

The  first  was  she  to  seek  his  tomb, 

With  balm  of  Araby’s  perfume : 

She  fondly  thought  that  honored  form 
To  rescue  from  the  loathsome  worm  ; 

377 


WOJIAJY  IJY  SACRED  HISTORY. 

And  little  dreamed,  how  death  in  vain 
Had  cast  his  adamantine  chain 
O’er  One  who  came  his  might  to  quell 
Even  in  his  gloomiest  citadel. 

And  high  reward  her  zeal  hath  won : 

“  Woman  !  ”  She  started  at  the  tone  ;  — 

“  Mary  !  ”  She  turned,  —  beheld,  —  adored  ;  — 
T  was  He,  to  life  and  her  restored. 

Thus  on  the  pure  and  patient  mind, 

Quiet  in  joy,  in  grief  resigned, 

Fraught  with  rich  blessing  from  above, 

Beams  the  benignest  smile  of  love ; 

E’en  as  the  lake’s  unruffled  breast 
Makes  pillow  for  the  sunbeam’s  rest, 

WThile  waves,  in  wild  disorder  driven, 

Roll  dark  beneath  the  clearest  heaven. 

0  woman  !  though  thy  fragile  form 
Bows  like  the  willow  to  the  storm, 

Ill-suited  in  unequal  strife 
To  brave  the  ruder  scenes  of  life  ; 

Yet,  if  the  power  of  grace  divine 
Find  in  thy  lowly  heart  a  shrine, 

Then,  in  thy  very  weakness  strong, 

Thou  winn’st  thy  noiseless  course  along : 
Weaving  thy  influence  with  the  ties 
Of  sweet  domestic  charities, 

And  softening  haughtier  spirits  down 
By  happy  contact  with  thine  own. 

Yes !  all  were  blest,  whose  every  sense 
Drank  in  the  heaven-taught  eloquence ; 

For,  ah !  my  feeble  strain  doth  wrong 
To  speech  so  liquid  and  so  strong, 

Bearing  the  willing  soul  along 
Upon  its  powerful  stream  : 

Yet  one  a  holier  bliss  confessed, — 

One,  to  whose  meek  and  placid  breast 
No  human  eloquence  addressed 
The  great  Apostle’s  theme : 

378 


ST.  PAUL  AND  LYDIA. 

God  opened  Lydia’s  heart  to  feel 
And  bow  beneath  his  own  appeal : 

He  cleared  the  mists  of  doubt  away, 

Poured  in  fair  truth’s  celestial  day ; 

And  all  the  trembling  soul  subdued 
To  hope  and  love  and  gratitude. 

Not  idle  were  the  tears  that  glistened, 

As  silently  she  sat  and  listened,  — 

Such  streams  as  fancy  bids  to  ilow 
At  tale  of  visionary  woe,  — 

They  issued  from  the  warm  heart’s  spring, 
Affection’s  earnest  offering, 

And  told  her  speechless  thanks  to  Heaven 
For  mercy  found,  and  sin  forgiven. 

When  all  their  homeward  way  had  ta’en 
She  lingered  in  the  lonely  fane, 

And  humbly  urged  her  kind  request,  — - 
“  0,  were  it  worthy  of  such  quest, 

Deign,  holy  pilgrims,  deign  to  share 
My  quiet  roof,  and  homely  fare !  ” 

And  there  they  sojourned,  pleased  awhile 
To  bask  in  friendship’s  grateful  smile. 

How  sweet  at  morn  or  evening’s  close 
The  mutual  prayer  and  praise  arose  ! 

What  thoughts  of  heavenly  peace  had  birth 
In  converse  round  that  happy  hearth ! 

And  when  on  each  devoted  head 
The  pure  baptismal  stream  was  shed, 

The  eternal  spirit  winged  its  flight 
To  seal  and  bless  the  solemn  rite  ! 

In  sooth  that  home  was  hallowed  ground ; 

Hope  spread  her  rainbow  wings  around, 

And  cheered  with  ever-smiling  face 
The  adopted  family  of  grace. 

From  “St.  Paul  at  Philipit,”  by  Rev.  Thos.  E.  Hankinson. 
379 


WOMEN  OF  SCRIPTURE. 

OUR  tents  are  desolate ;  your  stately  steps, 

Of  all  their  choral  dances  have  not  left 
One  trace  beside  the  fountains ;  your  full  cup 
Of  gladness  and  of  trembling,  each  alike 
Is  broken  :  yet,  amidst  undying  things, 

The  mind  still  keeps  your  loveliness,  and  still 
All  the  fresh  glories  of  the  early  world 
Hang  round  you  in  the  spirit’s  pictured  halls, 

Never  to  change ! 


380 


Felicia  Hcmans. 


APPENDIX. 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


notable  characters  among  the  women  of  Bible 
’  ~  v  history  present  so  attractive  and  variable  a  theme  for 
pictorial  representation,  that  they  have  been  several 
times  grouped  in  book  form,  botli  in  Europe  and 
America,  within  the  past  twenty  years.  The  freshness  of  the 
present  publication,  therefore,  consists,  not  in  the  subject,  but 
in  its  mode  of  treatment. 

In  seeking  material  to  illustrate  Mrs.  Stowe’s  interesting 
sketches,  two  purposes  have  been  kept  in  view :  first,  the 
securing  of  a  series  of  pictures  which,  by  a  judicious  selection 
among  different  schools  and  epochs  of  art,  might  give  a  more 
original  and  less  conventional  presentation  of  the  characters 
than  could  be  had  were  all  the  illustrations  conceived  by  the 
same  mind,  or  executed  by  the  same  hand ;  and,  secondly, 
the  choice  of  such  pictorial  subjects  as  were  well  adapted  to 
reproduction  in  colors,  so  as  to  represent  as  perfectly  as  pos¬ 
sible,  by  the  rapidly  maturing  art  of  oil  color-printing,  the 
real  ideas  of  the  painters.  The  guiding  principles  of  selection 
have  been  aptness  of  design  and  a  rich  variety  of  effect. 

It  will  be  seen  that,  in  pursuit  of  this  purpose,  some 
pictures  of  world-wide  renown  have  been  here  reproduced  in 
whole  or  in  part,  —  the  desirable  being  always  limited  by  the 
practicable :  examples  of  these  are  the  beautiful  “  Magdalen  ” 
of  Batoni,  and  the  main  portion  of  that  most  wonderful  of  all 
pictures,  the  “  Sistine  Madonna”  of  Raphael.  The  only  pos¬ 
sible  excuse  for  abridging  this  glorious  design  is  the  desire  to 
C'ive  some  slio-ht  idea  of  its  color-effect  to  the  thousands  who 

o  o 

383 


W0MA3T  IN  SACKED  HIS  TONY. 

have  known  it  only  through  engravings,  and  who  could  never 
know  it  otherwise,  unless  in  some  such  way  as  this.  Among 
our  illustrations  are  copies  of  celebrated  paintings  of  more  mod¬ 
ern  date,  by  the  great  painters  of  France,  Germany,  and  Eng¬ 
land  :  such  as  Paul  Delaroche’s  graceful  scene  on  the  Nile, 
where  Miriam  watches  little  Moses,  exposed  in  the  bulrushes; 
Horace  Vernet’s  terrible  “Judith  with  the  Head  of  Holofer- 
nes ” ;  Baader’s  remorseless  “Delilah”;  and  Goodall’s  lovely 
picture  of  “  Mary,  the  Mother  of  Our  Lord,”  with  her  offer¬ 
ing  of  two  doves  in  the  Temple.  Of  still  another  class  are 
those  which  have  been  adapted,  because  of  their  appositeness, 
to  illustrate  subjects  for  which  they  were  not  originally  paint¬ 
ed:  of  these,  Landelle’s  “Fellah  Woman”  well  shows  the 
Oriental  style  and  youthful  sweetness  of  JRebekah  at  the  foun¬ 
tain;  and  the  “Dancing-Girl”  of  Vernet-Lecomte  may  fairly 
represent  the  costume  and  beauty  of  Salome,  the  Daughter  of 
Herodias.  In  addition  to  these  varieties,  the  sixteen  plates 
include  several  which  were  designed  and  painted  expressly 
for  this  work.  One  of  the  most  pleasing  is  “  Ruth,”  by  Deve- 
deux  of  Paris.  It  is  accounted  also  a  special  advantage 
that  the  “Queen  Esther”  and  the  “Martha  and  Mary”  —  two 
very  striking  and  effective  pictures  —  are  from  the  studio  of 
Boulaxger,  who  shares  with  Gerome  the  highest  eminence 
as  a  delineator  of  the  peculiar  and  beautiful  features  of  the 
Orient. 

In  order  to  give  some  idea  of  the  care  taken  in  the  repro¬ 
duction  of  these  subjects,  it  may  be  stated  that  (except  where 
the  original  paintings  themselves  were  accessible)  in  every 
case  an  accurate  copy  in  oils  was  painted  by  a  skillful  artist, 
and  this,  together  with  photographs  from  the  original  pictures, 
the  best  impressions  of  the  best  engravings,  etc.,  formed  the 
basis  on  which  Jehenne,  the  artist-lithographer,  founded  his 
conscientious  work.  Each  subject  is  produced  by  a  series  of 
color-printings.  The  delicacy  and  difficulty  of  this  art  may 
be  better  appreciated  by  remembering  that,  while  the  paint¬ 
er  has  always  at  hand  his  palette,  with  its  numberless  pig¬ 
ments  and  shades  of  color,  for  the  patient  elaboration  of 

384 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

the  picture,  the  lithographer  has  to  analyze  the  work  which 
has  thus  grown  up  by  infinite  touches  under  the  painter’s 
brush,  and  must  study  to  concentrate  as  much  as  possible  the 
effects  of  each  single  color  in  a  single  stone,  —  which  can 
print  or  touch  the  picture  but  once.  The  final  effect  is  of 
course  produced  by  the  superposition  of  colors  and  shades  of 
color  one  upon  another.  It  requires  an  artistic  sensibility  and 
training  by  no  means  ordinary,  to  detect  in  a  painting  the 
three  or  four  reds,  the  varying  yellows,  the  different  blues, 
the  several  shades  of  gray,  etc.,  and  to  put  them  upon  differ¬ 
ent  stones,  each  accurately  correct  in  position  and  true  in  tone 
and  intensity;  so  that,  when  printed  one  upon  another,  to  the 
number  of  fifteen,  twenty,  and  sometimes  thirty  and  forty, 
separate  stones,  they  shall  in  the  general  effect  reproduce  the 
original  painting,  in  all  its  harmonies  and  contrasts,  with  its 
subtle  variations  of  color,  tint,  and  shade.  The  art  which 
can  thus  transfer  the  painter’s  minute  and  painful  toil  to  the 
breadth  and  rapidity  of  mechanical  reproduction,  making  acces- 
.  sible  to  thousands  the  great  creations  of  genius,  instead  of  leav¬ 
ing  them  imprisoned  in  the  single  copy  which  only  the  rich 
purchaser  may  possess,  is  itself  an  art,  and  claims  recognition 
of  the  lovers  of  art. 

Below  is  a  descriptive  list  of  these  illustrations,  with  notices 
of  their  subjects,  and  the  artists  by  whom  they  were  originally 
executed. 

No.  I.  Mary  the  Mother  of  Jesus.  Frederick  Goodall  (Eng¬ 
land  ;  b.  1822). 

This  is  one  of  the  few  modern  pictures  of  the  Virgin  which  are  at  once 
original  and  tine.  The  Mariolatry  of  the  Eoman  Catholic  Church  im¬ 
parted  a  pure  and  sweet  element  to  the  artistic  pursuits  of  the  devoted 
monks  and  pious  painters  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  by  the  general 
demand  for  altar-pieces  and  church  pictures  of  the  Virgin  or  the  Holy 
Family,  impelled  even  the  most  worldly  to  aim  in  that  direction,  thus 
giving  the  impulse  of  an  age  to  the  study  of  a  single  subject ;  but  this 
has  been  superseded  by  the  broader  and  more  general  culture  of  the  pres¬ 
ent  day,  which  fills  the  art-world  with  an  infinitude  of  subjects.  The 
production  of  a  fine  picture  of  the  Virgin  at  this  day,  therefore,  is  some- 

385 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

thing  very  unusual.  Goodall’s  picture  embodies  a  most  exquisite  con¬ 
ception,  and  in  its  engraved  form  has  had  a  large  popularity,  while 
receiving  high  praise  from  the  critics.  This  presentation  of  the  Virgin, 
going  into  the  temple  with  her  offering  of  two  doves,  is  one  of  the  most 
delicate  and  beautiful  of  the  entire  series.  The  exceeding  simplicity  of 
the  design  and  coloring  gives  it  an  effect  of  purity,  while  the  face  is 
tender,  thoughtful,  and  in  every  way  attractive.  The  softness  of  the 
drapery  and  the  gentle  gradations  of  light  are  special  features  of  this 
most  charming  subject. 

II.  Sara  the  Princess.  Charles  Brochart  (Paris,  France ; 
b.  1829). 

This  is  a  well-chosen  subject,  from  the  easel  of  an  artist  who  has  taken 
high  rank  in  the  modern  Oriental  school  of  French  painters.  Brochart  is 
especially  well  known  as  a  painter  of  beautiful  female  faces.  Greeks, 
Turks,  Persians,  Syrians,  —  all  the  races  of  the  Levant,  —  furnish  him 
types  of  his  pictures.  In  the  present  subject  (an  original  painting  for  the 
book)  is  depicted  “  Sara  the  Princess,”  the  nomad  queen,  wife  of  the 
wealthy  Abram,  —  the  “  woman  fair  to  look  upon.”  The  repose  of  man¬ 
ner,  the  placid,  dignified  beauty  of  the  face  and  form,  the  picturesqueness 
of  costume,  and  the  romantic  features  of  the  Eastern  landscape  background, 
—  with  its  well  and  palm-trees,  its  flocks  and  tents,  its  long  stretch  of 
desert  and  distant  boundary  of  mountains,  —  combine  to  make  an  attrac¬ 
tive  and  characteristic  picture.  Perhaps  its  most  marked  trait  is  the  rich 
and  agreeable  harmony  of  color  which  pervades  it ;  producing,  at  once, 
a  very  pleasing  effect  and  a  singularly  truthful  representation  of  the  atmos¬ 
pheric  warmth  and  glow  of  the  land  of  the  palm. 

III.  Hagar  and  Ishmael.  Christian  Koehler  (Werben,  Ger¬ 
many;  b.  1809,  d.  1861). 

This  picture  is  strong  and  expressive,  rather  than  attractive.  The  depth 
of  the  greenish-blue  sky  and  the  barrenness  of  the  indicated  landscape  give 
an  intensity  to  the  conception  of  the  desolate  mother,  clasping  passionately 
her  sturdy  and  unconscious  little  outcast  son.  It  is,  indeed,  as  Mrs.  Stowe 
calls  it,  “  a  striking  pendant  to  the  picture  of  Sara  the  Princess,”  for 
Hagar  the  Slave  is  the  embodiment  of  all  that  is  despairing  and  forlorn. 
Koehler,  the  artist,  is  prominent  among  the  painters  of  the  Diisseklorf 
school,  which  during  the  past  fifty  years  has  filled  a  large  place  in  the 
history  of  European  art.  That  little  town  at  the  junction  of  the  Diis- 
sel  and  the  Rhine,  although  important  as  a  center  of  railway  and  river 
traffic,  has  gained  its  chief  name  as  the  birthplace  of  the  artist  Cor¬ 
nelius  and  the  poet  Heine,  and  as  the  seat  of  one  of  the  most  eminent 
of  German  art-schools.  The  original  painting  of  the  present  subject  is 

386 


WOMAN  IX  SACRED  HISTORY. 

now  in  the  Civic  Gallery  of  Diisseldorf.  It  was  painted  at  Leinwand 
in  1843. 

IV.  Rebekah  the  Bride.  Chakles  Landelle  (Laval,  France  ; 
b.  1815). 

This  is  another  of  those  charming  subjects  which  the  enterprise  and  graceful 
art  of  the  French  have  brought  from  the  Orient.  Landelle,  from  whom 
several  of  our  illustrations  have  been  taken,  has  always  been  especially 
successful  in  his  treatment  of  Eastern  scenes,  having  spent  years  in  his 
studies  around  the  farther  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  both  in  Syria 
and  Africa.  The  original  painting  at  present  under  consideration  (1866) 
is  entitled  “  Femme  Fellah,”  and  represents  one  of  the  young  women  of 
the  Nubian  tribe  of  Fellahs,  resting  at  the  well  before  taking  upon  her 
head  the  earthen  water-pot  which  she  has  just  filled.  The  costume  is  rich 
and  appropriate,  while  the  lovely  face  and  figure  may  well  be  used  to 
illustrate  the  maidenly  grace  of  “  Rebekah  at  the  Fountain.” 

V.  Leah  and  Rachel.  Jean  Franqois  Portaels  (Vilvorde,  Bel¬ 
gium  ;  b.  1 820). 

Like  others  of  the  Belgian  artists,  Portaels  found  in  Paris  a  more  bril¬ 
liant  and  successful  patronage  than  his  own  little  country  could  afford  ; 
though  Belgium  boasts  of  some  very  choice  collections  of  art.  Portaels  is 
not  a  remarkably  original  genius,  but  his  pictures  always  show  thought 
and  care.  In  the  Bible  story,  Leah,  the  “  tender-eyed,”  became  the  wife 
of  Jacob  seven  years  before  he  attained  the  hand  of  his  chosen  love, 
Rachel  the  “  beautiful.”  The  fruitful  motherhood  of  Leah  is  suggested 
by  the  merry  boy  climbing  over  her  shoidders,  while  Rachel’s  gentle  face 
shows  the  sadness  which  afterwards  became  almost  an  agony  of  grief,  and 
found  utterance  in  her  supplication,  “  Give  me  children,  or  I  die.”  The 
grouping  is  natural,  simple,  and  effective. 

VI.  Miriam  and  Moses.  Paul  Delaroche  (France;  b.  1797, 
d.  1856). 

This  is  one  of  the  most  famous  designs  of  one  of  the  most  fertile  artists  of 
France.  Delaroche,  who  began  his  studies  as  a  landscape-painter,  soon 
abandoned  that  field  and  betook  himself  to  the  more  congenial  pursuit  of 
historic  art.  A  genius  of  natural  force,  he  adopted  a  style  equally  free 
from  the  formalities  of  the  classic  school  (represented  by  David),  which  was 
just  passing  away,  and  the  romantic  school,  which  was  just  coming  up. 
His  rather  melancholic  turn  of  mind,  while  it  led  him  generally  to  select, 
from  the  great  multitude  of  striking  scenes  in  modern  history,  subjects  of  a 

387 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

somber  tone  (like  his  “Joan  of  Are  in  Prison,”  “Strafford  on  the  Way 
to  the  Scaffold,”  “  Marie  Antoinette  before  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal,” 
etc.),  did  not  hinder  him  from  a  wonderful  mastery  of  his  art  in  all  the 
elements  of  correct  drawing,  effective  color,  and  power  of  composition,  nor 
from  the  attainment  of  more  scholarly  and  professional  knowledge  than 
most  of  his  associates,  who  greatly  venerated  his  opinions  and  his  work. 
In  his  riper  later  years,  he  occasionally  took  up  subjects  from  sacred  his¬ 
tory  ;  and  among  these  was  the  picture  under  consideration.  The  original 
painting  has  often  been  engraved,  but  its  freshness  and  beauty  are  best 
shown  by  reproducing  its  soft  and  delicate  coloring.  The  careful  sister, 
watching  through  the  rushes,  and  the  indistinct  form  of  the  mother  on 
the  bank  above,  are  in  exquisite  contrast  to  the  quietude  of  the  babe  in 
his  basket  on  the  waters  of  the  placid  Nile. 

VII.  Deborah.  Charles  Landelle  (Laval,  France;  b.  1815). 

This  is  from  a  painting  of  Velleda,  the  great  prophetess  of  the  Druids  of 
ancient  Gaul,  and  is  admirably  adapted  to  represent  the  splendid  vigor  and 
earnestness  of  the  Prophetess  of  Israel.  The  background  of  the  original 
painting  shows  the  gloomy,  murky  depths  of  a  cavern,  while  the  sacrificial 
flame  burns  on  an  altar  of  hewn  rock.  These  accessories  have  been  some¬ 
what  modified,  and  a  wholesomer  atmosphere  of  sunlight  and  verdure  are 
given,  to  better  suggest  the  locale  of  the  Syrian  land.  But  the  grand 
form,  the  noble  face,  and  the  inspired  attitude  of  the  original  figure  have 
been  scrupulously  retained,  as  true  indications  of  the  prophetic  fire. 

VIII.  Delilah.  Louis  Marie  Baader  (Lannion,  France). 

A  most  ungrateful  subject,  here  portrayed  with  singular  strength  and  con¬ 
centration  of  purpose.  It  is  a  peculiar  combination,  both  in  color  and  in 
the  grouping  and  suggestiveness  of  details.  The  time  selected  by  the  artist 
appears  to  have  been  just  after  the  shearing  of  Samson’s  hair  by  the  wily 
woman,  for  some  curling  jetty  locks  lie  on  the  floor ;  and  the  upset  chair 
seems  to  indicate  the  sudden  but  futile  resistance  which  had  been  made 
by  the  disendowed  athlete  before  he  was  led  out  bound  by  the  Philistines. 
The  cold,  hard  look  of  the  face  and  the  unrelenting  will  expressed  by 
the  slender  but  steady  arm  and  the  firm,  supporting  hand,  half  buried 
in  the  cushion,  instantly  compel  the  attention  of  the  beholder,  while  the 
harmonious  variety  of  color  in  the  accessory  draperies  and  furniture  sup¬ 
ports  the  interest  of  the  central  figure,  without  detracting  from  its  power. 
On  the  whole,  this  is  one  of  the  most  striking  illustrations  in  the  series. 

IX.  Jephtha's  Daughter.  Hugues  Merle  (St.  Marcelin,  France). 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  desolate  fate  to  which  the  daughter  of  the 

388 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

stern  Jewish  chieftain  was  devoted,  there  can  he  no  doubt  of  the  sweet¬ 
ness,  the  gentleness,  and  the  heroic  fidelity  of  her  filial  love.  The  tender 
beauty  of  the  maiden  represented  in  the  illustration  is  admirably  expressive 
of  the  character ;  the  face  is  earnest  and  shaded  by  a  certain  sadness  in 
the  eyes,  while  yet  there  is  no  mark  of  rebellion  or  discontent  at  the  rash 
vow,  the  fulfilment  of  which  she  has  gone  with  her  companions  into  the 
mountains  to  bewail.  This  is  an  adaptation  from  one  of  Merle’s  most 
beautiful  pictures.  He  has  always  been  especially  noted  for  his  success 
in  depicting  children  and  young  girls,  and  in  the  present  instance  he  has 
certainly  obtained  a  very  charming  effect. 

X.  Hannah  and  Samuel.  Charles  Brochart  (Paris,  France; 
b.  1829). 

This  is  a  subject  painted  for  the  book.  “  The  Praying  Mother,”  who  in  the 
depths  of  her  intense  desire  for  children  had  promised  to  devote  to  the 
Lord  the  man-child  for  which  she  pleaded,  brought  her  little  son  Samuel 
—  “  asked  of  God  ”  —  when  about  three  years  of  age  and  left  him  in  the 
Temple,  consecrated  for  a  lifetime  to  the  service  of  Jehovah.  The  pious, 
devotional  spirit  of  the  woman  appears  in  the  quiet  face  and  reverent  eyes, 
and  the  expression  of  happy  gratitude  and  contentment,  although  she  has 
come  to  yield  up  forever  the  child  of  her  prayers  and  vows.  The  little 
fellow  whom  she  tenderly  holds  to  her  breast  has  a  clear-eyed,  intelli¬ 
gent,  interesting  face,  and  the  •  beholder  instinctively  feels  that  he  is  a 
child  of  no  ordinary  qualities,  and  one  not  unlikely  to  hear  the  mysterious 
voice  calling  him  to  the  high  and  holy  duties  of  his  after  life.  The  last 
and  greatest  of  the  Judges  and  one  of  the  most  favored  of  the  Prophets  of 
that  wonderful  Jewish  line  was  sent  to  the  world  through  a  beautiful 
childhood.  The  faces  of  both  mother  and  boy  are  full  of  appropriate 
feeling,  while  the  chaste  and  simple  accessories  enrich  without  overload¬ 
ing  the  picture. 

XI.  Ruth.  Louis  Devedeux  (Paris,  France;  b.  1845). 

The  author  of  this  fancy  of  the  gentle  and  faithful  Moabite  (a  picture  painted 
for  this  volume)  is  one  of  the  rising  young  painters  of  France,  having 
already  taken  several  medals  under  the  severe  critical  awards  of  the 
Parisian  annual  Salon  des  Beaux  Arts.  The  grace  and  modesty  of  both 
face  and  figure  in  this  picture  of  Ruth  are  enhanced  by  the  delicacy  of 
the  color,  which  is  rich,  but  so  quiet  in  tone  that  it  is  not  in  the  slight¬ 
est  degree  obtrusive.  The  costume  is  simple,  but  effective ;  the  grace 
with  which  the  fine  fair  drapery  is  thrown  over  the  head  and  around 
the  neck  and  shoulders  charmingly  enhances  the  maidenly  action  of  the 
entire  figure.  There  is  one  pretty  touch  of  nature,  to  which  a  French  or 

389 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST  OF  ILL  US TRA  TIONS. 

Italian  or  Oriental  artist,  with  an  observing  eye,  would  almost  irresistibly 
be  led,  though  an  English  or  American  painter  would  never  think  of  it, 
—  the  brilliant  eyes  of  the  poppy,  shining  out  from  amid  the  grain. 
This  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  features  of  the  grain-fields  of  warm 
countries,  and  it  is  used  in  this  picture  with  admirable  effect. 

XII.  Abigail  Charles  Beochakt  (Paris,  France;  b.  1829). 

The  noble  and  generous  nature  which  impelled  Abigail  to  withstand  the 
brutal  fury  of  her  husband,  and  even  in  that  age  of  violence  to  dare 
disobedience  to  his  wicked  commands,  is  admirably  portrayed  in  this 
attractive  picture.  The  woman  who  was  beautiful  enough  and  rich  enough 
in  womanly  virtues  to  win  the  heart  of  David,  the  warrior,  singer,  poet, 
king,  the  most  brilliant  man  of  his  day,  and  the  one  who  has  left  a  more 
potent  influence  upon  the  ages  than  any  other  of  his  nation  (save  his 
“  greater  Son  ” ),  must  have  been  possessed  of  rarely  attractive  qualities. 
The  subject  has  given  the  artist  opportunity  to  make  a  fine  and  striking 
picture,  in  which  he  has  perhaps  given  prominence  rather  to  the  hos¬ 
pitable  impulses  of  Abigail,  in  her  offering  of  provision  and  refreshment 
to  the  famished  soldier-band. 

XIII.  The  Witch  of  Endor.  Charles  Brochart  (Paris,  France; 
b.  1829). 

Contrary  to  the  traditional  conception  of  the  woman  who  “  had  a  familiar 
spirit,”  by  which  she  is  generally  represented  as  a  hideous  old  hag,  more 
frightful  to  look  upon  than  the  ghosts  she  summoned  from  the  other 
world,  Brochart  has  here  taken  a  bold  departure  and  given  this  Witch 
some  semblance  of  witchery,  by  making  her  young,  beautiful,  and  intel¬ 
ligent.  The  picture  presents  her  as  herself  terrified  by  the  apparition  she 
evoked,  which  was  a  spirit  of  loftier  mien  than  those  she  had  been 
accustomed  to  traffic  with  ;  as  the  author  says,  she  “  cast  her  line  into 
the  infinite  shadows,  and  was  somewhat  appalled  by  what  it  brought  up.” 
The  self-confidence  customary  with  such  people  has  disappeared,  and  we 
see  only  the  startled  woman,  who,  having  arrayed  herself  for  the  artifices 
of  her  calling,  has  found  her  spells  more  potent  than  she  expected,  and, 
crying  with  a  loud  voice,  starts  back  in  affright  from  the  dread  shade 
of  the  Prophet- J  udge. 

XIV.  Jezebel.  Charles  Brochart  (Paris,  France;  b.  1829). 

The  crafty,  cruel,  heathen  queen,  who  with  her  wiles  and  her  superior  spirit 
for  so  many  years  ruled  Ahab  the  king,  and  sucked  the  blood  of  Israel, 
is  a  subject  easy  to  misconceive.  Perhaps  the  first  impression  of  such  a 

390 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

character  would  suggest  a  large  masculine  frame,  with  great  physical 
power.  But  a  closer  study  of  history  and  of  nature  will  show  how  much 
more  probable  is  the  conception  of  the  artist,  —  a  slender,  compact  body, 
with  small  but  graceful  arms,  firm  hut  beautifully  shaped  hands,  eyes 
to  flash  hatred  or  beam  calculating  kindness,  a  mouth  capable  of  the  com¬ 
pression  of  cruel  will  or  the  more  dangerous  smile  of  craft ;  a  dress  elegant 
in  material,  lustrous  in'  jewels  and  costly  fabrics,  and  exquisite  in  the 
faultless  harmony  of  its  color  and  arrangement.  Jezebel  was  of  the 
Vivien  order  of  women,  who  are  wicked,  not  because  of  temptation,  but 
from  simple  love  of  wickedness.  They  seem  to  come  upon  the  earth 
originally  inspired  by  the  Spirit  of  Evil,  —  their  chief  joy  being  to  ex¬ 
ercise  their  intelligence  and  power  in  utter  badness. 

XV.  The  Captive  Maid.  Charles  Landelle  (Laval,  France; 
b.  1815). 

There  is  perhaps  nothing  of  special  note  in  this  charming  and  graceful  pic¬ 
ture  of  Landelle’s.  It  is  one  of  his  favorite  subjects  of  the  Oriental  type, 
the  original  being  called  “A  Young  Girl  of  Tanger.”  Thp  little  maid  of 
the  captive  Israelites  was  evidently  one  who  had  made  herself  respected 
and  liked  ;  for  when  she  suggested  that  Naaman,  the  greatest  lord  of  the 
Syrian  court  and  chief  of  its  armies,  should  go  to  seek  out  a  prophet 
of  her  despised  and  despoiled  countrymen,  her  advice  was  acted  upon. 
The  picture  shows  a  beautiful,  gentle  face,  a  graceful  form,  and  a  thor¬ 
oughly  Eastern  type  of  person  and  costume. 

XVI.  Queen  Esther.  Gustave  Rodolphe  Clarence  Boulanger 
(Paris,  France;  b.  1824). 

Of  all  the  Orientalists  of  the  modern  French  school,  Gerome  is  probably  the 
most  brilliant  and  renowned.  AText  to  him,  and  indeed  almost  his  equal, 
is  Boulanger,  who  has  several  times  accompanied  his  famous  confrere  to 
the  East,  where  they  refill  their  portfolios  with  new  faces  and  costumes 
and  scenes,  to  be  wrought  up  into  new  pictures.  Having  just  returned 
from  one  of  these  trips,  Mons.  Boulanger  was  fortunately  able  promptly 
to  respond  to  the  demand  for  two  original  designs  for  the  present  work. 
Queen  Esther  is  one  of  these.  The  proud  and  serene  beauty  of  the  face, 
the  dignity  of  the  form  and  bearing,  and  the  simple  richness  and  elegance 
of  the  costume,  make  this  a  notable  picture.  The  calm  brow,  steady  eyes, 
and  “  level-fronting  eyelids,”  together  with  the  somewhat  lofty  poise  of 
the  head,  show  the  conscious  strength  of  the  brave  woman  who  took  her 
own  life  in  her  hand  when  facing  an  Oriental  despot  in  behalf  of  her  en¬ 
slaved  countrymen.  The  pearl-tipped  golden  coronet,  the  rich  details  of 
the  costume,  the  grace  of  the  hands,  and  the  regular  beauty  of  the  face, 

391 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATION'S. 

convey  a  sense  of  the  woman’s  weapons,  —  the  queen’s  power  over  her  lord. 
Although  the  background  is  devoid  of  almost  everything  save  the  somber 
shadow  which  gives  relief  to  the  figure,  the  imagination  easily  supplies  the 
haughty  king,  the  throng  of  courtiers,  and  the  crowd  of  suppliant  Jews 
behind  their  queen. 

XVII.  Judith.  Horace  Vernet  (France ;  b.  1789,  d.  1863). 

This  artist  (whose  full  name  was  Emile  Jean  Horace)  was  born  of  a  race  of 
artists  ;  his  fathers  for  four  generations  having  attained  eminence  as  paint¬ 
ers,  while  he  himself  led  a  life  of  almost  unvarying  success,  and  died  the 
recognized  head  of  his  profession.  His  early  army  life  gave  him  a  marked 
advantage  in  knowledge  and  the  attainment  of  a  brilliant  realism  in  his 
military  pictures  ;  which,  as  the  glory  of  France  was  his  chief  inspiration, 
were  for  many  years  almost  his  only  works.  During  the  reign  of  Louis 
Philippe  he  was  commissioned  to  paint  for  one  of  the  grand  halls  of  the 
royal  palace  at  Versailles  a  series  of  pictures  celebrating  the  French  mili¬ 
tary  successes  in  Algeria  ;  a  task  which  led  him  to  make  several  journeys 
to  Northern  Africa  and  to  Palestine,  for  the  correct  study  of  facial  types, 
scenery,  costume,  etc.  This  was  the  most  fertile  period  of  his  life,  and 
produced  among  other  things  a  notable  series  of  Scriptural  subjects  ;  one 
of  which  —  Judith  and  Holof ernes  —  furnishes  the  illustration  of  that  sub¬ 
ject  in  this  volume.  Artists  have  always  been  fond  of  this  strong  subject ; 
but  none  have  so  well  succeeded  in  rendering  the  beauty  of  the  intrepid 
Jewess,  combined  with  her  resolution  and  force  of  character.  The  horror 
of  the  old  woman  who  holds  the  dreadful  basket  to  receive  the  head 
is  finely  contrasted  with  the  superb  sternness  of  Judith’s  face  and  action  ; 
just  as  the  illuminated,  gorgeous  tapestry  of  the  tyrant’s  tent  is  rebuked  by 
the  quiet  sky  and  the  steady  shining  of  the  stars.  It  is  a  grand  composi¬ 
tion  ;  graphic  in  design,  perfect  in  detail,  effective  in  coloring.  Ho  wonder 
it  has  become  famous. 

XVIII.  The  Slstine  Madonna.  Raphael  Sanzio  (Urbino,  Italy; 
b.  1483,  d.  1520). 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Sistine  Madonna  of  Raphael  is  the  grandest 
picture  in  the  world.  The  artist  was  one  of  those  few  happy  men  who, 
gifted  alike  with  genius,  energy,  perseverance,  and  an  amiable  disposition, 
enter  early  on  their  life-work,  achieve  instant  success,  and  pursue  a  con¬ 
tinuous  ascending  grade  of  wealth  and  honor  until  death.  His  works 
range  from  the  simplest  portraits  to  the  most  elaborate  compositions,  from 
easel-paintings  to  vast  architectural  plans  and  decorations,  frescos,  cartoons, 
altar-pieces,  —  the  variety  is  marvelous,  the  execution  of  the  highest  ex¬ 
cellence.  To  crown  all,  his  private  character  was  very  noble.  Mrs.  Jame- 

39  i 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

son  says  :  “  We  may  reflect  with  pleasure  that  nothing  rests  on  surer 
evidence  than  the  admirable  qualities  of  Raphael ;  that  no  earthly  renown 
was  ever  so  unsullied  by  reproach,  so  justified  by  merit,  so  confirmed  by 
concurrent  opinion,  so  established  by  time.” 

Of  his  great  paintings,  his  last,  “  The  Transfiguration,”  now  in  the  Vati¬ 
can  Gallery,  is  by  many  regarded  as  the  grandest ;  but,  on  the  whole,  the 
palm  is  given  by  most  to  this  wondrous-eyed  Madonna,  with  her  babe,  so 
supernatural  and  yet  so  very  human,  in  her  arms.  The  picture  was  painted 
for  the  Convent  of  St.  Sixtus,  at  Piacenza, — whence  its  name.  To  quote 
again  that  admirable  authority,  Mrs.  Jameson  :  “  It  represents  the  Virgin 
standing  in  a  majestic  attitude  ;  the  infant  Saviour  enthroned  in  her  arms ; 
and  around  her  head  a  glory  of  innumerable  cherubs  melting  into  light. 
Kneeling  before  her,  we  see  on  one  side  St.  Sixtus,  on  the  other  Santa 
Barbara,  and  beneath  her  feet  two  heavenly  cherubs  gaze  up  in  adoration. 
In  execution,  as  in  design,  this  is  probably  the  most  perfect  picture  in  the 
world.  It  is  painted  throughout  by  Raphael’s  own  hand ;  and  as  no 
sketch  or  study  of  any  part  of  it  was  ever  known  to  exist,  and  as  the  exe¬ 
cution  must  have  been,  from  the  thinness  and  delicacy  of  the  color,  won¬ 
derfully  rapid,  it  is  supposed  that  he  painted  it  at  once  upon  the  canvas,  — 
a  creation  rather  than  a  picture.”  It  is  a  vast  canvas,  and  by  its  very  size 
is  impressive ;  the  surrounding  angel  heads,  and  figures  of  St.  Sixtus  and 
Santa  Barbara,  have  been  omitted  from  tins  reproduction.  But  it  is,  after 
all,  not  so  much  the  grandeur  of  the  figures,  the  symmetry  and  grace  of 
the  composition  and  grouping,  the  bright  beauty  of  the  cherub  faces,  or 
the  masterly  skill  in  design  and  finish  and  atmosphere  of  color,  though 
all  these  are  admirable ;  it  is,  above  all  things,  the  wonderful  expression 
of  the  two  faces,  the  Mother  and  Child.  “  And  Mary  kept  these  things 
and  pondered  them  in  her  heart  ” ;  it  is  a  thoughtful  face,  happy  and 
yet  “pondering”  the  strange  things  that  had  come  upon  her.  For  the 
child’s  face,  it  is  a  perpetual  miracle  ;  it  is  indeed  a  babe,  and  yet  there 
is  in  the  eyes  a  far-seeing  look,  and  on  the  face  an  expression  of  such  deep 
wisdom,  combined  with  infantile  simplicity,  that  it  affords  a  never-ending 
study.  The  present  reproduction  is  but  a  meager  suggestion  of  this  great 
work.  Fortunately,  through  some  fine  engravings  (notably  Steinla’s,  by 
all  odds  the  best),  the  picture  is  in  general  form  and  intent  tolerably 
familiar.  The  original  painting  hangs  in  the  Dresden  Gallery. 

XIX.  The  Woman  of  Samaria.  Emil  Vernet-Lecomte  (Paris, 
France ;  b.  1821). 

This  is  one  of  the  admirable  Eastern  subjects  of  the  modern  French  school, 
and  has  been  deemed  a  singularly  apposite  illustration  of  the  woman  at  the 
well,  to  whom  the  Saviour  talked.  The  easy  poise  of  the  figure,  the  steadi¬ 
ness  of  the  head  and  right  hand,  and  the  strength  of  the  face,  indicate  the 

393 


WOMAN  IN  S ACE  ED  HIS  TOE  Y. 

self-reliance  and  confidence  of  a  woman  who  lias  seen  much  of  life ;  while 
the  listless  forgetfulness  of  the  left  hand,  holding  the  water-jar,  and  the 
earnest  gaze  of  the  eyes,  show  the  awakened  mind  and  fixed  attention  of 
the  listener.  Vernet-Lecomte  has  been  one  of  the  most  enterprising  and 
successful  of  the  French  Orientalists ;  his  pictures  always  glow  with  the 
warmth  and  color  of  the  East. 

XX.  The  Widow  of  Nain.  Frederick  Goodall  (England ;  b. 
1822). 

This  is  a  powerful  picture.  Although  it  is,  for  its  present  purpose,  an  adapta¬ 
tion,  the  expression  of  absolute  and  heart-breaking  desolation  which  it 
portrays  tells  a  definite  story.  There  have  been  other  modes  of  treating 
this  subject,  most  of  them  giving  the  rather  revolting  scene  of  the  dead 
man  in  his  winding-sheet  arising  from  the  bier,  while  the  life-giving 
Master  stands  by,  and  the  weeping  relatives  and  friends  throng  confusedly 
around.  But  besides  the  limitations  of  space,  which  preclude  any  such 
extended  composition  from  this  series,  we  have  preferred,  on  other  accounts, 
the  single  striking  figure,  which,  after  all,  embodies  in  itself  the  central  and 
dominating  sentiment  of  the  widowed  and  bereaved  mother.  Some  one 
controlling  thought  must  be  the  life  of  every  picture.  The  joy  and  sorrow 
of  this  history  are  too  widely  contrasted  to  admit  of  both  being  presented 
on  a  single  canvas. 

XXI.  Mary  Magdalene.  Pompeo  Girolamo  Batoni  (Lucca, 
Italy;  b.  1708,  d.  1781). 

This  beautiful  and  every  way  noble  work  is  kept  alive  in  constant  reproduc¬ 
tion.  Lithograph,  wood-engraving,  steel  line-engraving,  mezzotint,  —  there 
is  hardly  a  mode  of  copying  which  has  not  been  resorted  to  for  the  pur¬ 
pose  of  multiplying  it  in  all  its  graceful  lines  and  admirable  proportions, 
while  the  number  of  actual  oil-paintings  which  have  been  carefully  elabo¬ 
rated  from  the  original  is  probably  greater  than  has  been  inspired  by  any 
other  of  the  “  great  Masters,”  excepting  always  Raphael's  three  world- 
renowned  pictures  of  the  Virgin, — the  “  Sistine  Madonna,”  the  “  Madonna 
della  Seggiola,”  and  “  La  Belle  Jardiniere.”  The  Magdalen  of  Batoni  is 
one  of  the  few  paintings  which  fairly  compete  with  the  masters  of  the 
fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  on  their  own  ground  ;  for,  though  it  is  a 
picture  of  the  eighteenth  century,  painted  during  the  decadence  of  Euro¬ 
pean  and  especially  of  Italian  art,  it  is  very  much  after  the  style  of  the 
older  artists,  and  it  is  brought  into  direct  comparison  with  the  similar 
expression  of  this  same  subject  by  Correggio,  in  the  same  gallery  at 
Dresden.  In  this  competition  it  easily  holds  its  own,  if,  indeed,  it  does  not 
bear  away  the  palm.  Correggio  has  by  far  the  greater  name,  for  his  pic- 

394 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

tures  are  among  the  choicest  treasures  of  the  principal  galleries  of  Europe  ; 
but  in  this  subject,  the  freedom  and  boldness  of  the  treatment  seem  to 
dwarf  the  more  delicate  and  weaker  rendering  of  Correggio,  while  in  color 
and  expression  Batoni  is  fully  the  equal  of  the  older  and  more  famous 
master. 

XXII.  The  Daughter  of  Herodias.  Emil  Vernet-Lecomte  (Paris, 
France  ;  b.  1821). 

As  stated  in  the  remarks  prefatory  to  this  list,  this  plate  has  been  taken  to 
represent  one  of  the  types  of  Eastern  beauty  and  a  costume  appropriate  to 
the  subject.  It  is  known  as  “L’Almee”  (The  Dancing-Girl),  and  since 
it  was  painted,  in  1869,  it  has  gained  quite  a  fame  as  characteristic  of 
the  artist  and  of  the  school  to  which  he  belongs.  Travelers  in  the  East 
find  so  little  change  in  dress  and  manners,  as  also  boats,  houses,  tools, 
instruments,  and  modes  of  life,  from  those  of  twenty  centuries  ago,  that 
we  need  not  go  far  astray  in  taking  a  dancing-girl  of  the  present  day,  in 
that  ancient  land,  to  suggest  the  dress  which  the  dancing  Salome  may 
have  assumed  in  order  to  please  the  voluptuous  king  and  obtain  the  re¬ 
quest  of  her  revengeful  mother.  Viewed  simply  as  a  work  of  art,  also,  the 
picture  is  pleasing.  The  dress  is  simple,  graceful,  and  rich  ;  the  attitude 
is  easy  and  modest ;  and  the  face  is  agreeable  in  feature  and  expression. 

XXIII.  Martha  and  Mary.  Gustave  Rudolph  Claeence  Bou¬ 
langer  (Paris,  France;  b.  1824). 

Thoroughly  effective  and  original,  the  hand  of  a  master  is  to  be  seen  in 
every  line.  The  artist,  who  was  a  pupil  of  Paul  Delaroche,  carried  off, 
at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  the  “  Grand  Prize  of  Pome,”  the  ambition  of 
every  art  student  in  the  French  and  Italian  schools.  His  grand  earlier 
successes  were  in  the  classical  field ;  but  of  late  years  he  has  (as  already 
remarked)  devoted  himself  more  particularly  to  the  Orient ;  and  Arabia, 
Egypt,  Syria,  Turkey,  and  the  Levant  in  general,  have  been  illustrated 
by  his  glowing  pencil.  In  this  picture,  the  dark  beauty  and  spirited  action 
of  Martha,  the  serene  repose  of  Mary’s  figure,  and  the  sweetness  of  her  face 
and  her  quietude  of  manner  under  the  fiery  reproaches  of  her  elder  sister, 
the  characteristic  contrast  of  color  in  the  dresses  of  the  two,  the  suggested 
coolness  of  the  vine-embowered  porch,  and  the  general  harmony  of  line, 
design,  and  color,  are  well  worthy  of  observation.  The  fact  that  it  was 
designed  and  painted  for  this  volume  by  the  great  Orientalist,  gives  to  the 
picture  an  additional  value  and  interest. 

395 


WOMAN  IN  SACRED  HISTORY. 

XXIV.  The  Widow's  Mite.  Edouard  Dubufe  (Paris,  France; 
b.  1819). 

This  painter  has  achieved  for  himself  a  splendid  record.  His  first  studies  were 
made  with  his  father,  Claude  Marie  Dubufe,  who  had  attained  eminence 
as  a  portrait  painter  (b.  1790;  d.  1864) ;  but  later,  he  had  the  great  ad¬ 
vantage  of  tuition  by  Delaroche,  the  acknowledged  master  of  the  French 
school  of  thirty  years  ago.  He  began  exhibiting  his  pictures  in  the  annual 
Salon  cles  Beaux  Arts  at  the  age  of  twenty-one  (obtaining  a  medal),  and 
shortly  afterwards  gave  his  attention  to  subjects  of  religious  sentiment. 
But  after  fh'e  years  of  this,  successful  as  he  was,  he  turned  his  talents  into 
the  channel  where  his  father  had  become  famous,  and  has  given  France 
a  most  admirable  series  of  portraits  of  her  public  men  and  women,  —  re¬ 
nowned  in  the  arts,  in  war,  in  politics,  in  society.  During  this  period, 
however,  he  has  not  lost  sight  of  imaginative  art,  but  has  made  his  name 
known  throughout  the  world  by  such  works  as  “  The  Prodigal  Son,” 
and  the  picture  here  reproduced,  “  The  "Widow’s  Mite.”  This  group,  with¬ 
out  doubt,  is  from  the  life ;  it  bears  all  the  marks  of  reality,  without, 
however,  any  of  the  hard,  unsympathetic  treatment  of  realism.  The 
thoughtful  and  rather  sad  face  of  the  poor  woman,  beautiful  with  the 
gentle  joy  of  helping  others  poorer  than  herself ;  the  unconscious  babe 
asleep  on  her  shoulder;  the  bright  blond  beauty  of  the  little  girl  who  with 
cheerful  look  watches  the  last  penny  of  her  mother’s  little  store  —  “  all 
her  living  ”  —  as  it  drops  into  the  treasury-coffer ;  and  the  half-roguish, 
lialf-shy  little  boy  standing  close  under  the  protecting  hand  of  his  elder 
sister,  —  these  form  a  group  rarely  surpassed  in  grace  or  interest.  The 
color  is  managed  with  especial  skill,  the  mother’s  somber  robes  being  well 
contrasted  with  the  brighter  tints  of  the  children’s  clothing,  though  all 
are  evidently  worn  and  old.  The  gleam  of  brilliant  effect  from  the  tum¬ 
bled  red  cap  in  the  little  fellow’s  hand  is  a  marvel  of  cleverness,  and  the 
general  management  of  the  light,  softly  illumining  what  would  otherwise 
be  a  rather  cold  and  chilly  picture,  is  most  admirable. 

XXV.  Lydia  the  Hospitable.  Charles  Brochart  (Paris,  France ; 
b.  1829). 

From  among  the  “Women  of  the  Apostolic  Church”  treated  of  in  the  text, 
it  was  necessary  to  select  some  prominent  character.  Probably  no  other, 
save  perhaps  Dorcas,  the  typical  figure  of  charitable  industry,  stands  forth 
so  distinctly  as  Lydia.  A  woman  of  Greek  nationality,  yet  rescued  from 
the  sensuous  habits  of  her  race  and  time  by  the  influence  of  Christianity 
and  its  strenuous  spiritual  and  moral  teaching  as  enforced  by  the  Apostle 
Paul,  Lydia  appears  chiefly  as  a  clear-headed,  generous-hearted  woman  of 
wealth,  who,  embracing  the  new  religion  with  earnestness,  was  happy  in 

396 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

throwing  open  her  house  for  the  entertainment  of  its  wandering  Apos¬ 
tles,  —  they  leaving  home  and  kindred  to  “  endure  hardship  as  good  sol¬ 
diers  ”  among  strangers  and  foreigners,  for  the  cause  they  so  nobly  served ; 
she  welcoming  them  with  cheerful  hospitality  to  her  home  and  giving 
them  efficient  aid  in  their  work.  The  illustration  aims  only  to  set  forth 
this  idea ;  its  intrinsic  beauty  of  color  and  design  are  too  obvious  to  need 
pointing  out. 

397 


INDEX  TO  FIRST 

LINES 

OF  THE  POETRY  IN  THIS 

VOLUME. 

And  come,  ye  faithful !  round  Messiah  seen 

228 

And  Rachel  lies  in  Ephrath’s  land 

• 

. 

.  73 

As  the  tired  voyager  on  stormy  seas  . 

. 

. 

30 

At  the  cross  her  station  keeping  .... 

243 

Aye,  this  is  he,  —  the  bold  and  gentle  boy 

162 

Blessed  among  women  is  thy  lot  . 

272 

Blessed,  yet  sinful  one,  and  broken-hearted 

313 

Blest  land  of  J udaja  !  thrice  hallowed  of  song 

225 

Calm  is  it  in  the  dim  cathedral  cloister 

38 

Come,  trembling  sinner,  in  whose  breast 

208 

Companionless,  unsatisfied,  forlorn  . 

305 

Do  thy  little,  do  it  well  ..... 

365 

Go  wash  in  Jordan’s  limpid  stream  . 

193 

Here,  after  Jacob  parted  from  his  brother 

283 

Her  eyes  are  homes  of  silent  prayer  . 

357 

Her  prattling  child  she  brings  in  white  arrayed 

154 

Ho  !  princes  of  Jacob  !  the  strength  and  the  stay 

220 

If  I  might  guess,  then  guess  I  would  . 

373 

In  the  hot  noon,  for  water  cool 

281 

In  the  land  of  Bethlehem- Judah  .... 

141 

In  the  lone  field  he  walks  at  eventide 

61 

It  is  the  fruit  of  waking  hours  .... 

362 

Jesus,  engrave  it  on  my  heart  .... 

353 

Like  her  who  on  Samaria’s  ground 

282 

Latest  born  of  Jesse’s  race  .... 

164 

Lowliest  of  women,  and  most  glorified  . 

229 

Methinks  that  holy  man  ..... 

375 

Mid  the  white  spouses  of  the  Sacred  Heart  . 

319 

Mother !  I  bring  thy  gift  .... 

333 

Mother  !  whose  virgin  bosom  was  uncrost 

230 

My  eyes  climb  slowly  up,  as  by  a  stair 

239 

Oh,  blest  beyond  all  daughters  of  the  earth  . 

355 

Oh,  of  dance  and  song  the  pride 

131 

399 

IXBEX  TO  FIE  ST  FIXES. 


0,  love  divine,  how  sweet  thou  art  . 

0  miserable  change  !  is  this  the  man 
One  grief,  one  faith,  0  sisters  of  the  dead  . 

O  strong  in  faith  !  thus  cheerfully  to  fling 
O  Thou  who  deign’st  to  sympathize  . 

0,  welcome  came  the  morn  where  Israel  stood 
Pass  where  of  old  the  giant  kings 
Queen  Esther  weighed  the  message  well 
Eeft  of  thy  sons,  amid  thy  foes  forlorn 
She  held  the  head  all  horrible  with  gore 
She  sitteth  idly  at  the  Master’s  feet  . 

She  stood  before  her  father’s  gorgeous  tent  . 
She  stood  breast-high  amid  the  corn  . 

Since  one  country,  one  God,  O  my  sire 
Sleep,  sleep,  mine  holy  One 
Slow  glides  the  Nile  :  amid  the  margin  flags 
Sound  the  loud  timbrel  o’er  Egypt’s  dark  sea 
The  bed  was  earth,  the  raised  pillow  stones  . 
The  dust  on  their  sandals  lay  heavy  and  white 
The  morning  broke,  light  stole  upon  the  clouds 
Then  was  a  task  of  glory  all  thine  own 
The  plume-like  swaying  of  the  auburn  corn  . 
There  was  a  mournfulness  in  angel  eyes  . 

The  Eoman  sentinel  stood  helmed  and  tall  . 
The  rose  was  in  rich  bloom  on  Sharon’s  plain 
The  shepherds  went  their  hasty  way 
The  sun  is  hot ;  and  the  dry  east-wind  blowing 
The  sun  was  sinking  on  the  mountain  zone  . 
Thou  hast  thy  record  in  the  monarch’s  hall 
Thou  that  with  pallid  cheek 
Thou  whose  spell  can  raise  the  dead  . 

Two  mites,  two  drops,  yet  all  her  house  and  land 
"Weeper  !  to  thee  how  bright  a  morn  was  given 
"Weep  not,  0  mother,  sounds  of  lamentation  . 
"Welcome,  0  wilderness,  and  welcome,  night 
When  blessed  Mary  wiped  her  Saviour’s  feet 
"When  ministering  women  went 
Who  says  the  wan  autumnal  sun  . 

Why  wilt  thou  cast  the  roses  from  thine  hair  . 
With  eyes  aglow,  and  aimless  zeal 
With  joyful  pride  her  heart  is  high  . 

Ye  daughters  and  soldiers  of  Israel,  look  back 
Yes,  that  will  do.  A  road  can  softly  bend 
Yet  as  a  sunburst  flushing  mountain  snow 
Your  tents  are  desolate ;  your  stately  steps 

400 


354 
114 

355 
364 
241 

96 
107 
205 

10 

219 

348 

127 

144 

130 

266 

95 

98 

72 

288 

48 

318 

143 

317 

290 

151 

264 

277 

71 

356 
314 
171 
366 
317 
296 
324 
316 
374 
293 
312 
310 
350 

97 
182 
229 
379 


Date  Due 


313.37  qS892W 


469322 


